Wait, Who's The Mom?
by xXSapphireDawnXx
Summary: Alfred F. Jones, the popular school jock, and Arthur Kirkland, the mostly hated student council president, are paired up in a Home Economics project. In which you are "married" to another student, and you have a fake-but creepily realistic-child to take care of. This wouldn't be a problem, except that they had hated each other since the 7th grade. Various pairings, main as USUK.
1. Prologue

**I know I should be working on my Hunger Games/Hetalia crossover, but I am waiting to update that until America's birthday, in three days. I am also currently writing a PruCan oneshot for Canada Day today, but I want to get this story out of my head for the moment.**

**I apologise if anyone else has a story similar to this. I just came up with this story randomly as I was doing some household chore. **

**Possible later pairings: GerIta, Spamano, SeboSea, Giripan, PruCan, AusHun, PolandxLithuania, FrancexJeanne d'Arc, and SwitzerlandxLichtenstein**

**Main Pairing: USUK**

**Seborga- Angioletto Vargas I know most people give him the name "Marcello", but I like this name better.**

**Germania- Aldrick Beilschmidt (Gilbert and Ludwig's grandfather)**

**Rome- Roma Vargas (You already know whose grandfather he is)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Simple as that.**

**Oh, and this is only rated T for cursing.**

•••••

Prologue

The teacher sat at his desk as the students walked in, some quicker than others. A mischievous smile grazed his face for a mere second before returning beck to its previous serious position. Well, if Roma Vargas had a serious face.

There was a reason for this project, and it wasn't just for grades. No, it wasn't assigned from the board of education either. The students were going to hate this project. And that made it all the more fun.

All of Roma's friends-he had many, being a likeable and energetic Italian-knew he was an excellent matchmaker. And that's the reason he chose this project. There were pairs of students in this class he knew were perfect for each other, and that included his darling grandsons, Feli, Lovi, and Angi (whose real name was Angioletto). Anyone else besides Roma, Feli, Angi, and Antonio would be killed if they had called Lovino that, though.

So what kind of project was it? We'll call it an...interesting project to say the least. The headmaster, Aldrick Beilschmidt, rather, Roma's lover, hadn't even liked the idea at first considering the circumstances of the class. But he had warmed up to the idea after some..._convincing_. Yes, convincing.

•••

Arthur walked into class, one of the first ones, as always. Mr. Vargas had claimed that they were going to start a new project that all of them would love at the beginning of this week. Arthur wasn't sure what to make of this, considering which teacher they were talking about.

As soon as he heard the noise, he knew his desk-mate had arrived. Alfred F. Jones. No one even knew what the F stood for, but for all Arthur cared, it could be "Alfred Fucking Jones". The younger student was the quarterback for the sport Americans called football. Why do they call it football? You don't even play it with your feet!

Anyway, Alfred F. Jones was the star football player and one of the jocks. And it's not even like he was stupid. You have to have pretty good grades or they kick you off the (American) football team. He had golden blonde hair the colour of wheat. Glasses framed his sapphire eyes that were a shade of sky blue. He was one of the popular guys who had fangirls surrounding him almost all the time. It was not "all the time" because they didn't follow him into the bathroom. None of them wanted to be dubbed as a pervert for the rest of their high school lives.

Unfortunately, Alfred F. Jones, as said before, sat next to Arthur Kirkland. Just imagine the loved, popular jock and hated class president that almost no one could stand in your school sitting together. Not a very pretty picture. To make it worse, they had been enemies since the 7th grade.

Alfred slipped into his seat as the bell rang, his fangirls dispersing to get to their classes before they got detention for being too late. Mr. Vargas called the class to attention with a wave of his hand.

"Today, as I said last week, we'll be starting a new project," he traced the perimeter of the room as he walked, the students following his every move, "in this project, you will be simulating life as you will experience it as an adult." He picked up a bag of slips.

"These slips all hold future jobs you could have. All of you will draw one at random, and that will be your job for the rest of this unit," Roma continued, pulling out one of the pieces of paper and unfolded it, "let's say I drew a doctor. I would then earn that salary-not in real money, of course, for the rest of this unit. This project will last two months." Roma folded the slip of paper back up and placed back in its recent position in the bag.

"You will earn a year's salary at first so you have money to start out with, but after you get that, your pay check will arrive in weekly salaries. You will then use that money that you have 'earned' to buy a house, car, clothes, and food. Also, if you ever end up having detention in this class, that will count as being arrested, and you will be fined," Mr. Vargas continued, his hands behind his back. Arthur stared in amazement. This was the most serious he had ever seen the fun-loving teacher be since the beginning of the year.

"Each student will be placed in a pair, as this will be a project with a partner. You will be 'married' in a sense, to your partner, and will share your income and house with your husband or wife. It doesn't matter if you are both of the same gender, considering there are more boys in this class than girls. You two will be given a child to take care, which you must bring to class everyday, or you will be fined by 'social services'. The baby must still be alive by the end of two months for you to have passed this project, for the baby counts as 40% of your grade. The baby will be given to you at the end of 9 days, as both to get prepared, and to simulate 9 days as 9 months in a pregnancy." This wasn't sounding so bad to Alfred at the moment. He could get paired up with one few hot girls in this class, seeing as they would all immediately want to be paired up with him. He just felt bad for whoever got the sarcastic student council president.

"Also, in marriage, you will all have to wear the rings given on your right ring finger, as to show who you are paired up with. You aren't allowed to get divorced until at least a month in, so if when you get to know your partner more, you don't like them, you can't get divorced right away.

"And last, you will have to write a page and a half paper on this unit that will count as 20% of your grade." Students all throughout the room groaned, but not Arthur. Although he would've preferred not to write the essay, anything literary was simple for him, so it would be the easy part. Putting up with whatever idiot he was forced into being paired up with-because he knew he wouldn't be on anyone's list to be picked, therefore, Arthur would have to be paired with the other one that no one would want-would be the hard part.

"Any questions?"

A few questions that had already been answered when he had explained it were asked by the day-dreamers. A blonde girl raised her hand to ask a question that everyone had wondered as he explained it, but had made the wrong assumption to the answer,

"Will we get to choose our partners, or have they already been chosen?"

A wicked smile crossed the teacher's features as he answered the question, "Your spouse has already been picked for this project." The students of Mr. Vargas's class groaned once again at the answer.

"When will we know who our partners are?" asked Matthew, Alfred's brother that Arthur like a considerable amount more.

"Your partner is the one you are sitting with," Roma answered, malicious glee overtaking his features. Various reactions came from around the room, from terribly masked glee to shrug to despair.

But the two blonds sitting towards the back of the classroom just stared at each other in identical looks of utter horror, contemplating if suicide was worth the month of pain they would have to endure.

But this was just a normal year in Mr. Vargas's Home Economics class.

•••••

**Yay for short chapter! Kind of OOC Rome, but whatevs. Germania would never do something like this to get his students together, so I had to make it Rome. I had to make Rome serious.**

**By the last line in this, I mean he does this sort of thing almost every year.**

**Goodbye until next chapter!**

**_~Sapphire_**


	2. Chapter 1

**Holy Christ. 10 reviews, over 20 followers, and over 10 favourites. And that was only the prologue, the shortest chapter in the story. This is literally like 3x more of everything than I have on my story that already has 4 chapters. I apologise that this chapter is much more boring than the prologue. Just bear with me.**

**My excuse is that I was playing Pokemon. Not the newer Black and White 2. Sapphire. Where do you think I got the Sapphire for SapphireDawn? **

**Disclaimer- Hetalia isn't mine. If it was, God, it would be overwhelmed with yaoi.**

**_I am going to do something like a question in each chapter you can answer for fun. It will always be the last line in the first author note. Only answer though if you were going to review anyway because I don't want you to review just to answer the question. It's usually going to have to do with nothing about the story at all._**

**_This chapter's question: What is your favourite of the original 151 Pokemon (no legendaries though)? _**

**Mine is either one of three: Ninetails, Eevee, or Ponyta. I am a sucker for cute animals. Except for dogs. I am ****_not_**** a dog person.**

••••

Chapter 1

Roma gleefully smiled at the pairings laid out in front of him. He knew all these pairings were perfect. If they were in a manga/anime, people would be shipping these pairings so hard it wouldn't be a ship anymore. It would be a freaking cruise ship. Especially the three pairings of Ludwig & Feliciano, Antonio & Lovino, and Arthur & Alfred.

•••

The bell rang, signalling the end of the class period, much to most of the students' relief. Some didn't mind who they were "married" with, they could tolerate and didn't hate the other, such as Heracles & Kiku. Some were already a couple such as Elizaveta & Roderich. Some actually had a crush on the other such as Matthew to Gilbert (to Alfred's dismay; he was very overprotective when it came to his twin). And some downright hated each other like Arthur and Alfred.

Arthur rushed out of class, glad to get away from the nightmare that was his Home Economics class. Why couldn't they do normal activities in that class like cooking? (Though, if they were to do that, Arthur would probably blow up the classroom, at the very least, kill everyone's tastebuds.)

Now, because of this, he had to be "married" to the idiot of a (American) football quarterback for two months. He would have to raise a child with him, for God's sake! The baby's head was probably going to be ripped off just to spite the other within a week of it "being born". They were going to fail this assignment, Arthur knew it already.

He opened his locker after twisting the dial to the three numbers required. The Briton's-unlike some people's-locker was very neat and orderly. There were no papers shoved in as you would expect from the typical high school student. No candy wrappers or stickers plastered on the door were apparent.

Grabbing his books for the next two classes, he slammed the locker door, taking out his anger on the poor, harmless locker, it wasn't loud enough for a teacher to yell at him, but loud enough for the black-haired boy with the locker next to him to glare at him, telling him to "please close the door quieter next time" in words not half as kind.

Arthur groaned when he remembered that Alfred was also in his next class, Maths, though it irked Arthur to no end that Alfred had the slightly higher grade. How did he know? He's the student council president; it's going to be easy for him to get information, whether from teachers or students.

•••

"Alfred, Arthur, Kiku," the teacher lightly called, gesturing for the three to come over to her desk, "you need to go up to the front office. They haven't told me why, they just said something about requirements for one of your classes." Two of the three nodded (you don't have to be brilliant to guess who), and the three walked silently to the door until the sanded piece of wood was closed and they could talk freely.

"Why do we have to do this stupid project?" Alfred groaned. They all knew them getting called up had something to do with their previous class. "Why do I have to be married to you, of all people? There are tons of people in that class I'd rather be paired up with. Hell, I'd rather be paired up with Ivan than you," the golden-blond complained. Though Ivan wasn't in their Home Economics class, it was a known fact that Ivan and Alfred...weren't the best of friends.

Arthur's teeth were gritted the whole time he spoke, "And you think I enjoy having to do a project with you? Anyone in that class is more likeable than you, even Francis!" This, of course, wasn't true to anyone, for Alfred was liked by most everyone except the giant Russian and British student president; plus, there was the fact that Arthur hated Francis more than the American.

"Can you please stop fighting? Nothing is going to change that you two are going to have to work together," Kiku interfered uncharacteristically, as he was usually leave the area when a fight started. The Japanese boy didn't want two of his good friends to fight. Kiku was good friends with both Alfred and Arthur, though he was rarely (meaning once or twice in his lifetime) seen with both at once.

Arthur sighed, shutting up for his friend's sake. If he and Heracles ever fought, though it was the more likely that the world would end tomorrow, then he wouldn't want to listen. Alfred followed suit, crossing his arms over his chest.

The rest of the walk to the office was silent; Arthur drifted over to Kiku's right so that the Japanese teenager was separating the two, acting as a barrier to prevent them from fighting.

•••

"What!? I now not only have to tolerate him for two months, I have to share a bloody room with him!?" Arthur yelled, slamming his hands down on the desk. He had not expected this. Asking that he do a project with Alfred was a problem, but telling him that he would have to share a dorm room with the quarterback was a bit too much.

Alfred sat outside the door, fuming. They had been told separately, for Aldrick knew that if they had been told at the same time, there would, no doubt, be bickering and teachers would be sending him noise complaints, stating that their classes had been interrupted with yells that could be heard throughout the entire school building.

The headmaster ran his hand through his long, swept-back hair in frustration, "Mr. Vargas has asked that dorms be switched just for the two months, as to replicate a home in married life. If you have a problem with this, I would suggest going to him." Aldrick handed him a key, "This is the key to your new room, dorm 298. I will allow you to go back to your room and pack your stuff so you will be able to move in with less delay."

Arthur nodded reluctantly. He really regretted coming to this school, but his mother would never allow him to leave, seeing as he was the one who had chosen to go instead of to a public school. His annoying brother, Peter, had (of course) to follow him to this school, and was a freshman while Arthur was a junior. Even though they were in different grades, they had the same class with Mr. Vargas, so at least Peter was going through the same thing, but most likely with much less pain.

Arthur left the room, rather, stormed away from it. He headed towards the dorms to pack up his stuff not that he had brought much to the school, leaving all the embarrassing things at home. Well, except for one; he had brought the stuffed unicorn he had since he was two. But seriously, he had had it since he was two, it's going to be special enough to bring to a boarding school.

Why did it have to be Alfred of all people? The one person that he couldn't stand; well, that was a lie. He couldn't stand a lot of people, but he could at least pretend to tolerate anyone else besides Alfred and Francis.

Arthur moved the clothes from the dresser to one of the two suitcases he had brought with him here. Kiku hadn't come back to the dorm room that he and Arthur shared, so Arthur guessed that Heracles was going to move into this room instead of Kiku moving out.

•••(After Some Packing)

The blond teenager had finally managed to pack everything up, and was now standing in front of the room he was supposedly going to share with Alfred. He was scared to go inside, fearing that the room would be a swamp of soiled clothes thrown round and empty food wrappers along with other trash.

Arthur opened the door slowly, as if it were one of those cartoons where there is tons of snow and it all falls in when you open the door. He was shocked to see that the room was nearly spotless. But that was before the green-eyed boy remembered that Alfred shared a room with his quiet twin brother, Matthew. Oh yeah, Matthew was also in their Home Economics class, so he must've moved out already.

Alfred's bed was covered in American flag bed sheets-how typically American-,and there was a stack of comic books by the corner of his side. There was a XBox along with a flat screen T.V. (How did they even afford that? Maybe they just brought it from home..?) on the opposite side of the bathroom door, which was close to his side of the room. He placed his bags beside the bed, not bothering to unpack them, and pulled out a book to read.

•••

Alfred's day had finally finished. Actually, he wasn't sure that he was glad to be home anymore. Now that he knew that Arthur was living with him, coming back to the dorms to play video games didn't seem quite as enjoyable as it had the day before. Nw that his enemy slept under the same roof, it was kind of uncomfortable

The door clicked open, and the blond American looked inside to see Arthur sitting on Matthew's former bed, reading. How was that fun in the least? At least it would keep him quiet for a while...hopefully.

Arthur's eyes flashed up to Alfred as he heard the door open and close. He rolled his eyes before looking back down. The forest-green-eyed teen was just going to ignore the younger ((If you ever see me refer to England as older by a few months, it's because my head-canon birthday for him is May 23rd.)) and hope that the latter would do the same.

Alfred threw his bag on the opposite bed of Arthur and sat criss-cross in front of the screen before picking up the remotes (both XBox and T.V.). He turned on the television with one remote and the XBox manually before turning to play a first shooter person game in which he pretended all the people on the other team were the green-eyed boy instead of someone else. This helped his team immensely; he should've tried this a long time ago.

Arthur was actually watching–surprising, I know–as Alfred played, and snickered lightly when he was killed. The mentioned turned to look back at the slightly older boy, a glare directed towards him, "You think you can do better?"

Arthur tilted his head. Did he really want to try this and most likely humiliate himself? Because if he said 'yes', Alfred was sure to make him play the game. But if he said no, then Alfred would most likely harass him about it. So Arthur decided to pick the neutral option, "Maybe, maybe not. I don't like to waste my time playing stupid video games."

Alfred snorted, "Yeah, you like to waste it reading. Who even does that for fun anymore?" (No offence to all of you guys, because you are reading.) Arthur tensed, but then sighed, relaxing.

"Are you really asking that foolish question? Would authors make as much as they do if people didn't buy their books to read them?" Arthur turned back to his book. If Alfred responded, he was too busy ignoring him to listen.

•••

**First day in the dorms. There is probably going to be a lot of time skip—not too much, though. As in I might skip a few days, a week at the most.**

**Next time it will take longer to update. I had already had half this chapter written out, so I could update not long after the first chapter had been posted. I didn't post the first chapter as soon as I had finished it because I thought no one was going to read it because of its shortness. How wrong I was.**

**~Sapphire**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY! Well, right now, it's July 5th in my time zone, but somewhere in the US it's still the 4th of July, so whatever.**

**Question of the day- Who are your favourite and least favourite of the main Axis and Allies, including Prussia and Canada?**

**My favourite character is England, as I've always loved England even before I watched Hetalia, I thought was probably the coolest country in Europe. Their accents, OMG, and just the country in general. Compare London to Washington D.C. Then I saw his character, I was just like 'Yes'. And he was so sweet to America when he was still a colony. **

**My least favourite is Russia. I just don't like him. All you Russia fangirls are going to be hating on me, but whatever. You fangirls are like, "Aww, Russia is so cute! (Or kawaii, considering how much of an otaku you are)" and I'm over here, "What the heck do you see in him? England is freaking scared of him. That's saying a lot. Because in the game, Gakuen Hetalia, when Seychelles threatened to curse England, he freaking asked her to show him how she was going to do the curse."**

••••

Alfred awoke, yawning loudly; he looked over onto the other bed to see Arthur. Ah, so this was not all a dream. _Unfortunately_.

The older boy looked so..._innocent_ in his sleep. There was no way he was the same person with the sarcastic and cynical personality that was always used against Alfred. He was curled up, facing towards the space in the middle of the room so that Alfred could see his face. It wasn't either the smirk or scowl the American was so used to seeing.

Well, most people were used to seeing that expression. Arthur was widely hated by the school. Though Alfred hated to admit it, that was probably his fault. Anyone who was in that golden circle of people was followed closely. Most of the normal people—with the exception of a few eccentric students and loners—followed blindly about what was cool and what wasn't. Luckily for Alfred—but unluckily for Arthur—he was in that group of people.

The golden-blond shook his head, clearing his slightly guilty thoughts before stepping towards the bathroom door. No, not in that way, you perverts! As if Alfred would ever think of a guy in that way, much less Arthur...

•••

Arthur awoke to an empty bed on the other side of the room. It seemed quite surprising that Alfred, of all people, would wake up before the green-eyed boy himself.

The sandy-blond rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, sitting up and pulling the blanket off. He checked the alarm clock. Looks like today was one of those 'wake up one minute before the alarm goes off' days. He stood up to get in the shower, but heard running water, so sat back down until the younger boy was done.

To think before 7th grade, the two boys would've enjoyed this. They were the best of friends, but something had happened in 7th grade that had broken them apart...

The water shut off, and after a few minutes, Alfred came into the room fully dressed in their school uniform. Arthur stepped into the bathroom wordlessly, for he was still tired, and he didn't want to argue with an idiot like Alfred right now.

•••

Home Economics class came in 3rd period as it always did. The day seemed to go faster than Arthur wanted. In his head, he was begging for the school day to slow down, though he would never beg in real life.

The bell rang, and as usual, Alfred slid into is seat at the last moment before class started. Arthur remained emotionless, trying not to explode at Mr. Vargas for pairing him up with such an incompetent idiot that the teacher knew he would—no, could—ever work with. What was the point of this stupid project again.

"Alright, today," Roma said, a malicious smile on his face, as they were working on the project for the next two months. His face was probably going to be stuck like that if he had made the project sat any longer. "You guys are going to randomly pick your jobs, and you will design what your baby will look like based on your characteristics. The only thing that's required is that the baby has the eyes of the 'mother' and the hair colour of the 'father'. This is just so that the baby doesn't look only like either of their 'parents'."

The students were called up one by one. Some got jobs that would fit them, such as Feliciano drew one of the slips as an artist. Some got jobs that would absolutely, never in a million years, become their real job, such as Gilbert was a librarian. Arthur had to stop himself from bursting out laughing. The image was just hilarious, the loudest kid—with perhaps, the exclusion of Alfred—being a librarian, where one had to be quiet.

Alfred was called up, as they were being called from the front to the back of the room. The American had drawn an airforce pilot. It was fitting, considering he wore the airforce jacket his grandfather had given him from when he had served in World War II. Alfred seemed really happy—even though the jobs were faux—with his position in the military.

Arthur was next, and last, but not—though to some students, they probably thought he was—least. His hand swam through the slips left, searching for the one that had his metaphorical name on it. He pulled the supposedly perfect one out and read it aloud, "Criminal Investigator."

As the blond sat back down in his seat, Alfred snickered at him, "Dude, you're British, and you got a detective. You're freaking Sherlock Holmes." Arthur wasn't sure if he was meant to take that as a compliment or an insult, because Sherlock on BBC was pretty awesome, so he simply shrugged. For once he didn't yell at the younger boy.

Sheets were passed out with a simple drawing of a baby, just an outline to draw and colour what he child looked like. People in the classroom were pretty happy considering they only had to draw. Coloured pencils and crayons were set out in the front. From the way people were acting, it was like kindergarten all over again. Except the part where Alfred and Arthur hated each other. They had been—as said before—best friends back then, and did practically everything together.

"Wait, Arthur? Which one of us is the mom, and which one is the dad?" Alfred asked awkwardly. There was no venom or insult in his tone; the question was bad enough. Two guys...deciding which one would be the girl...That would be awkward enough even if they didn't hate each other.

"Just go ask Kiku," Arthur replied, waving him off. The Japanese teen knew them both well enough to be able to tell who would be the dominant one, and it was a lot easier than trying to figure it out themselves. That would—no doubt about it—turn into a huge argument, which the class would end before it did.

Alfred walked towards the desk towards the front where Kiku and Heracles sat. Arthur could see his lips moving as he asked the question, and Kiku responded. To Arthur's confusion, Alfred said something once again. What else would he have to say? Te dark-haired boy nodded, and the golden blond dragged him towards the desk that him and the Brit shared.

"Okay, so now tell Arthur what you said to me," Alfred told Kiku, a smug expression on his face. Oh God, no. That self-satisfied expression on his face could only me—

"If you and Alfred–san were ever in a relationship," Kiku paused for effect. No, I'm kidding; Kiku paused because he knew the Briton wouldn't particularly like the answer he was about to give, "you would most likely be the more...feminine..." The Japanese boy trailed off, before slowly going back to his seat so he could continue working with his 'husband'.

Alfred smirked, "So, you're the mom, and I'm the dad."

"Why are you so happy about this? It's not like we would ever be in a relationship, or are ever going to be. It's more likely that Lovino and Ludwig would get together, and you know how much Lovino absolutely hates him," Arthur asked, his voice dripping with hatred for the younger boy. It was bad enough he was the girl, but it was more mortifying that he was even older than Alfred. Wait, what? He was thinking the same thing that he had asked about. Why did it matter if he was the female if it wasn't even real?

"Because even if this is all fake, I can still hold it over your head that you are much more of a girl than me," Alfred smirked. Arthur's fist clenched, ready to punch him in the face and prove that he wasn't girly in the lea–oh wait a minute, who's the one with the stuffed unicorn? Neither of them thought that of course; Alfred didn't know, and Arthur was too annoyed. Just the author.

Arthur sighed, his fist unclenching. He really didn't want to work with Alfred, but he also didn't want to get a bad grade for the semester. Two months, or eight weeks, was almost half the semester, and getting a low score on this would bring his overall grade down horridly. He had to get along with the intolerable teen just until then. That wouldn't be too hard..._right_?

"Let's just finish this," Arthur said, sighing once again. This would be difficult.

"Fine. You're the girl," Arthur glared at the cerulean-eyed boy,"so it's got your eyes. What color are your eyes?" Alfred asked, couching down so he was at eye-level to look at the colour.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. If he was going to try to get along with Alfred, the sandy blond wouldn't slap him away as he normally would've. He would just let the younger do what he wanted. But if anyone was to bump into Alfred—_no_, he would not think about that.

"Green," Alfred murmured*, standing back up, leaving an uncomfortable Arthur sitting in his chair. Of course, Alfred was oblivious to the atmosphere and didn't seem to notice how awkward the former seemed.

"You could've just asked me," the seated teen said, slightly flustered, despite hating the American. It's just when someone is practically close enough to kiss you, you're going to start feeling flustered, no matter whom it is.

Alfred simply shrugged, not really caring. It was already gone and done with, so it didn't matter.

"Dude, we are not giving him your huge eyebrows," Alfred slightly snickered as the Briton slapped his arm. Nobody even looked their way through all of this; they were so used to hearing them fight, the other students had just learned to tune them out.

"When did you decide it was going to be a boy?" the Brit asked, slightly annoyed that the taller boy had decided to make the decision without him. Alfred simply smirked once again, "Right now." Was the smug expression stuck on his face or something?

"It is not going to be a boy," Arthur responded, crossing his arms over his chest, "we'll run the risk of it being a stupid git like you." An argument broke out between the two, which was ignored by the rest of the class. Then Arthur came up with the point that if he had to be the mother, he was _going_ to choose the gender. Alfred reluctantly agreed.

The bell rang a few minutes after they had finished and turned it in. They had decided against freckles (and neither had them anyway, so it wouldn't matter if they did want them), and the hair had been Alfred's shade of blonde. The hair was to be straight instead of curly, for they both thought it looked much nicer—but who knows, maybe they were just being narcissistic, because both of them had straight hair.

•••

The Briton arrived back at the dorms earlier than Alfred, as usual. Today was a tiring day, full of arguing no matter how much Arthur tried to stop himself from fighting. He lay in his bed, just staring up at the ceiling, thinking philosophical thoughts that would probably stop the world from ending one day if they had been continued. But alas, the pale blond-haired teenager gave into tempting unconsciousness before those thoughts could come.

••••

***Not murmured as in romantically or gently like he is going to remember it forever. I just absolutely hate the word muttered with a burning passion. It is very rare that you ever find that word in any of my stories.**

**I'm just asking, does anyone else remember the time where Prussia broke the 4th wall? In the first episode of World Series? Just me?**

**God, that was such a freaking short chapter. I am also working on another story (yes, like I need to work on another one when 4/5 on my profile are unfinished) for Mirai Nikki/Future Diary. I just finished the manga yesterday morning. **_**SPOILER**_**: My yaoi fangirl side exploded when Akise kissed Yuki even though it wasn't a yaoi/shounen-ai. Totally ship that pairing, especially after reading Mirai Nikki: Paradox.**

**I find it hilarious how Akise looks like Prussia, as in an albino, and when the English dub comes out, he is to be played by Todd Haberkorn AKA Italy.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**_~Sapphire_**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Thanks for all the reviews and favourites and follows. I am one of those authors who gets all excited when I see I got one review. Are there any other authors out there who update before they go to bed, and they wake up the next morning, and they have like, 25 emails because of all the stuff, and they're like, "Holy crap, when did this all happen?!"? Or is it just me?**

**My freaking God, I can't stop listening to World's End Dancehall by Hatsune Miku. And not only Hatsune Miku. I have listened to these versions:**

**Hatsune Miku & Luka Megurine**

**Rin & Len Kagamine **

**Kaito **

**Gumi **

**Nico Nico Chorus**

**Hetaloid England and Japan**

**English version by POPPY and 水縁無憶**

**I have an obsession.**

**Question of the day- Has anyone played the Google logo thing today? (July 8, 2013) The alien in the game is Tony, I kid you not. If you finish the game it shows you a newspaper article saying a flying saucer was spotted in Roswell, New Mexico.**

**I put one of my headcanons in there. My personal headcanon is that if England didn't burn the food he cooks, then it would probably be good, or at least decent.**

**••••**

"What the hell did you put in this food? Are you trying to kill us both?" Alfred said. He had grudgingly agreed to eat Arthur's food. And that was his mistake.

"Maybe I was. That would at least get rid of you," Arthur retorted, "and if you don't like my cooking, then go get your stupid McDonald's." The Briton's accent seemed to grow stronger as he got more annoyed, but as Alfred would find out later, it was even more prominent when he was drunk.

"Maybe I will," and Alfred just had to do the childish thing and stick his tongue out at the older teen as he grabbed his car keys. Even though the closest McDonald's was only a few blocks away. Americans and their laziness. The Briton sighed before beginning to eat again.

Alfred shut the dorm door as he left the room. In all honesty, the food probably would've been decent if Arthur hadn't burnt it so badly. The golden blond reminded himself to take the food out halfway next time the green-eyed boy attempted to cook. It would probably at least edible if he did this.

But now, it was time to get the taste of burnt food out of his mouth by getting some fast food consisting of some cheeseburgers and fries. Oh, and of course a diet coke; he didn't want to get fat, did he? It was probably—no, _definitely_—his favourite food to eat, so he got it often. He was lucky Matthew lived with him, so his room wasn't drowning in fast food wrappers.

Well, Matthew _had_ lived with him. Before Arthur had moved in.

Alfred didn't even hold a grudge over what had happened in 7th grade. It was just kind of the norm to fight nowadays, as opposed to years ago when the fighting was real. It all started 4 years ago.** -Cue Dramatic Music-**

The two had been the best friends anyone could be. As close as two boys could be without being romantically involved. They had a perfect little bromance. Everyone was happy, nothing was wrong.

Then one day, the fire nation attacked. If fire nation can be used as a metaphor for a b!tch named Rachel and her rumours. She had spread around rumours saying that the two boys were totally gay for each other. This only happened after she had seen Alfred piggy-backing Arthur to the nurse because of something that happened in gym. The Brit had been blushing and telling him to put him down or he was going to kick the back of his knee ((Which you should know, for future pranks to make people mad, makes people collapse on the spot if you kick hard enough. Your welcome.)) and make both of them fall. Because piggy-backing is for couples and parents with their children, and they were neither of those.

Alfred had looked back over his shoulder to tell Arthur something—which, if you were wondering, was to shut up—and Rachel thought that the American had kissed the one on his back. She, with her big blabbity mouth had told the whole school that she had seen the two boys making out. Arthur blamed Alfred, and refused to talk to him for days because he could've told the Briton to shut up without turning his head. When they did finally talk, big fight broke out, blah, blah, blah. Boom! They hate each other!

By now, it was a really stupid reason to hate someone else, but after a while of hating someone, you just kind of get used to it.

Back to the real story plot, Alfred arrived at the McDonald's shortly; it took less than five minutes. Sometimes Alfred thought he was just being a lazy American stereotype. Then, he would just forget that thought and go back to watching football—which Arthur would call rugby for girls—and eating his cheeseburgers. To be the American stereotype, he would have to be ignorant and hyperactively annoying, and he wasn't like that at _all_.

•••

Today was the day they were going to get their baby. Since they had started the project on Monday, and 9 days from then was Wednesday the next week, today was supposedly the right day.

The bell rang, and everyone was in their correct seats. Except, mysteriously, Lovino and Antonio. But who knew what they were doing? Maybe one had gotten the other sick. Huh.

A few people looked exhilarated to see their new "baby". Especially Elizaveta; she looked like she was going to die of anticipation. The Hungarian girl was excitedly chatting with Feliciano, who seemed almost as excited about the thing as her. Meanwhile, Roderich and Ludwig sat on either side of the chattering "mothers", who seemed five times more excited than the Austrian and German's excitement put together.

Lili seemed pretty excited too. As enthusiastic as the petite girl could look, that is. Seborga looked pretty happy as his cousin did. Arthur snickered at the fact—in his mind, of course—that Peter was the female; that only lasted until he remembered he was the "mother" of his and Alfred's child. _Oh my God_. How did he only now notice what "being the mother" implied?

Roma shut the door, implying that whoever came in after was late. Not that it mattered; he didn't care if you were late if it was within five minutes of class starting.

"So, today! Today, you will get your _bambino_*!" Mr. Vargas clapped his hands together (not _clapping_, clapped them together) in glee. Oh, so it seemed his darling little Lovi and Antonio had already gotten together. He would've thought Lovino would last longer, considering his attitude, but the less time it took, the better.

Alfred didn't know what bambino meant, but he was pretty sure they were getting their children today. It had only been about a week and a half since this project had started. Now, it was only six and a half. He was literally counting down the days; thirty two and a half more school days. But even worse were the weekends, where Alfred and Arthur couldn't go to school to get away from each other. Alfred had resorted to staying at a friend—that lived close but didn't go to Hetalia Academy—'s house for the weekend. Arthur had been devastated that Alfred had to go—in a parallel universe, of course.

Arthur leaned onto his arm, incredibly bored. He wished he hadn't been put in this class, along with Maths and Geography, other classes that Alfred had been put in. He might not have been able to get out of the classes completely, but he could've at least been put into a different period.

This next part was actually pretty funny in Alfred's opinion; a girl from another class, Melina**, had volunteered to dress up as the stork and hand out the children. The children didn't even look like baby dolls like Alfred expected. They looked almost exactly like human children, and seemed very realistic, crying and giggling and crawling around. The American was ready to call the police; it was like they had kidnapped children that fit the students' designs perfectly.

The girl finally came around and gave them the last child, as they were the last ones, so she hadn't had to ask their name. (Antonio and Lovino's had already been placed on Roma's desk for tomorrow.) Roma cheerfully thanked her before she left to go change to head back to her class. He handed her a slip of paper—which Arthur supposed was a late pass—before she went out the door, though.

The Briton took a look at the child in Alfred's hands. It was small, but average for a baby. It looked exactly as they had specified it, with forest green eyes like her mother, and golden blond hair like her father. It annoyed him to no end how, even though the hadn't said it on the paper, there was that little annoying cowlick that Alfred had. It was like the makers of the robot—there had to be creators, Roma Vargas wasn't a criminal, right?—were psychic and knew exactly how the two looked.

Or maybe the teacher had just wanted to annoy the Briton. Either one worked in Arthur's mind.

"Those are not real, don't worry! No parents are heartbroken over a kidnapped baby," the Home Economics teacher assured with a light laugh, "they are all yours for the next six and a half weeks we're doing this. And even longer if to want to keep them for high school memories of the worst project you've ever had."

Mr. Vargas was obviously kidding, but in the two blonds in the back's opinions, it _was_ the worst project. They had had to work together after the incident before, but they just mostly did it over e-mail. They would do their parts of the project, and then Alfred would send his information over to Arthur, and he would put it onto the poster, or PowerPoint, or whatever. The Brit wouldn't sabotage Alfred's part because then, he would have a lower grade too.

"Anyway, these babies are just like normal children every aspect except they don't grow because they're not real. You have to bathe them, feed them, change their diapers," Alfred wasn't going to even _try_ to understand how the robots were able to use the bathroom, "put them to sleep, and other things a parent would do with their child. The baby is waterproof, so you don't need to worry about baths destroying it. You can turn off the baby, but the longer you live with it on, the more credit you get in this project, as it records how much time is spent on. With the exception of classes, of course. No one wants to bring a crying baby into science class," Roma continued, cheerful the whole time he was speaking.

Arthur was annoyed; Mr. Vargas wouldn't be as happy if he was the one being paired up with his best-friend-turned-enemy. The Briton would probably be perfectly fine if he was paired up with one of his friends...Well, Kiku was the only one of those friends in this class, but there was Lukas and Dmitry, who were also in the Magic club along with him. From what he had heard, Lukas had been paired up with Matthias, a Danish boy, who was—in Arthur's, and apparently Lukas'—opinion, a boy that was in the running for most obnoxious along with Gilbert and Alfred.

Dmitry, the lucky bastard, wasn't in the class at all, so he didn't have to do this horrible project. Humph.

Elizaveta and Feliciano were cooing over the little babies. They were a good pair, if not slightly crazy. It was a good thing that their boyfriends were there to keep them in check. Ludwig wasn't officially the auburn-haired Italian's boyfriend, but the way Feliciano hung off of him, the German might as well have been. And it wasn't as if the taller blond pushed him away...

Arthur sighed; he knew what he had to do when school was over, and they had to head back to the dorms. But he _definitely_ wouldn't like it.

**••••**

*** Bambino- Child/baby in Italian. I am pretty sure of this translation, and I checked Google (cause you know how accurate that is) to make sure, but tell me if I'm wrong. IDK, I just had to slip an Italian word in there.**

****Melina- Wy. Look up "The Principality of Wy" on Wikipedia. There is literally a part that says "References in Pop Culture", and it says Hetalia in there! Fun fact of the day!**

**Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review!**

**_~Sapphire_**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Question of the Day- What are your favourite scenes from Hetalia?**

**I have four. Mine are the turtle scene, England's drunk scene, the HRE/Chibitalia kiss part and the scene where chibi America and England are in the field and I was just fangirling because of how cute little America was and how cute his voice was, and just yeah...**

**Anyway, here are the baby names and genders. I had to name them places in one of the countries that are actually names. Except Vash and Lili. I couldn't find a boy name for a place in either country, so I just looked up cities in Switzerland and choose one that sounded the most like a name.**

**Elizaveta & Roderich- Vienna, Female**

**Heracles & Kiku- Athens, Male**

**Feliciano & Ludwig- Venice, Female (Did anyone get the thing Venice=Veneziano, Rome=Romano in canon Hetalia?)**

**Gilbert & Matthew- Berlin, Male (The Kingdom of Prussia was where Germany is now.)**

**Angioletto & Peter- York, Male (In this story, Peter is English, and York is an English city.)**

**Antonio & Lovino- Valencia, Female**

**Francis & JeAnne d'Arc- France, Male (I swear, France is a unisex name. And I needed more boys.)**

**Vash & Lili- Vernier, Male (City in Switzerland.)**

**••••**

"Truce?" Alfred repeated, suspiciously. Arthur had to be lying, "So, no arguing for the rest of this dumb project?"

"Yes," the Briton replied with a nod. It was a win/win situation for everyone. People didn't have to listen to their fighting, they didn't have to fight, they could actually finish this project without killing each other.

"Can we just stop arguing at all? I don't even understand why you got all upset over a rumor that wasn't even real. That stupid bitch just ruined everything," Alfred chuckled a little bit, "but you have to admit that people would've started saying we were gay for each other anyways. She just kinda sped the thing up." Arthur was slightly confused. Not even twenty minutes ago, Alfred had been arguing with him in Geography, as they had only had a worksheet to fill out while the teacher sat at her desk, playing on her phone. Off topic, how was she qualified to be a teacher?

The American flopped onto the bed, unaware of how a normal person would've acted. Anyone else would've grudgingly agreed to it, at least pretending to still hate the other. If it had been the other way around, with Alfred proposing the draw, then that's how the Briton would've acted.

"Of course..?" the shorter blond responded, though it sounded more of a question than an answer. He was normally a very intelligent individual, but this...how do you comprehend this?

"Dude, do you have the baby? It didn't suffocate in your backpack, right?" Alfred asked, slightly panicked.

"Alfred, it's a _robot_."

"Your point?"

"It is a bloody _robot_. It cannot suffocate," Arthur mentally face palmed and was this close to repeating his mental actions in real life. This close meaning two fingers a centimetre apart.

"Way to go. Thanks for making me feel like an idiot," Alfred replied, folding his arms across his chest as he sat up on the bed.

"You feel like an idiot? I thought you were already aware that you were an idiot and always felt that way," Arthur retorted, a smirk apparent on his face. Alfred stuck out his tongue for the second time in two days. It was childish, but it didn't matter to him. He was Alfred Fucking Jones, and no amount of childishness could prevent him from being awesome. (As a side note, the F. actually stands for Franklin, as in Alfred Franklin Jones. Though if that was what the F. actually stood for, it would be pretty freaking awesome.)

The Briton pulled the baby out of his backpack and set it on the bed. It was currently off, as the older boy didn't want to get detention because of loud and annoying crying.

"Ya know, these things are creepy as fuck," Alfred randomly said with a chuckle, "why would he give these to us?" The green-eyed boy just shrugged. It was actually a nice change to not fight as they normally did. Like when you have a lot of tests and projects due in the same week, and as the week passes, you just feel relieved and unstressed.

"What are we going to name it?" the talkative boy asked, "it's gotta be something awesome, not some lame name like Arthur." The shorter blond smacked his arm, though Alfred just laughed.

"Shut your mouth. At least my name doesn't sound like a type of pasta sauce," Arthur retorted, "my namesake was a great king." He left out the part about Alfred the Great, who had saved England from Vikings. The American couldn't possibly know about him. Even if he had been taught it—they had had different history teachers after 5th grade—Alfred was sure to forget it.

"Well, pasta tastes better than a king."

"You have got to be kidding me. Did you seriously just say that?" Arthur didn't wait for the answer before continuing, "let's just get back to deciding the name," he quickly added after a moment, "or at least attempt to."

"It's a girl, right?" Alfred asked, cocking his head. After a nod from the Briton, he responded, "Amelia?" After that, the two just started throwing names out there. Finally, they came to a name.

"America?" Arthur suggested. He had originally thought of this name at the beginning of the name-giving session, but it didn't take much will-power to keep it away, considering he was English and not American.

"Woah, did you just suggest America? The super-British dude?" Alfred was trying to hide his laugh by covering his mouth with his hand, but failed miserably.

"Shut up, you git," the Englishteen (he's not 18 yet, so I can't very well call him a Englishman) replied, "do you like London better? Because I can give you English names."

"No, no. Let's just stay at America," Alfred pouted—in a manly way of course—as he continued, "you got to pick that it was a she, so let me pick the name." After a moment, he also added the simple word, "Please." Arthur rolled his eyes and responded, "Fine, her name is America. But her middle name is Britannia, so it's both countries." Alfred happily agreed, glad his 'child' could be named America.

•••

"It's your turn," Alfred groaned. The crying baby had woken them up three times tonight already. And this was only the first day of taking care of little America Britannia Jones. "Why can't we just turn the fucking thing off?" he asked, his voice full of pain. Not pain as in physical pain, as in the pain you get when you are woken up at 3:00 in the morning.

"Because we need to do this to simulate parenthood," Arthur replied sarcastically, but just as pained as Alfred as he picked up America. He sat on the bed and slightly swayed so that she would fall asleep, "The bloody switch is stuck; I can't do anything about it. If you want to try, then go ahead." The green-eyed boy handed the calmed-down baby to the American, who had sat up in hopes of being able to fix it.

"Dude, it really is stuck," Alfred groaned as Arthur gave him a face that obviously said "you don't say". Not the Nicholas Cage one though. Just kind of cocking his head and glaring at him as Alfred continued, "If I try any harder, the thing is going to break. I guess," sigh, "we'll have to last the night until we can go to Mr. Vargas."

The Briton sat on his bed, legs crossed as he held America, who had been handed to him. He softly stroked her hair as she snuggled into his chest. Arthur had a sinking feeling as he remembered something, "Alfred?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled in response, too tired to say anything else.

"We don't have school tomorrow or Friday. We have the days off," Arthur replied, continuing to stroke the little girl's hair. Alfred just groaned in response, burying his head deeper into the pillow. So much for relaxing nights. Hopefully, this hasn't happened to everyone else; otherwise on Monday, everyone would have bags under their eyes and be in a grumpy mood. Arthur didn't even want to imagine Lovino with lack of sleep if he had such a bad attitude already.

The Briton checked the clock, which read 5:27. Now was the perfect time to get some of the student council work finished that he hadn't been able to before. Francis was a useless vice-president; he left all the work to him. The French teen's cousin—Alfred's brother—would've been a much better pick for the job. Too bad that no one really noticed Matthew because he was so quiet,

America snuggled into Arthur once more, and the English boy smiled softly. The papers could wait until tomorrow.

•••

Alfred awoke the next morning before Arthur. It was only the second time he had done that the whole time the Briton had lived here.

The shorter boy was laying with his arms wrapped around America, with her against his chest, it was almost...adorable how cute the two looked together. Wait, no! He wouldn't think that about any guy. It had to be America that was adorable, not Arthur...of course it was.

The American checked the alarm clock. 11:07. Normally, he would be in second period, Spanish, who he also had with the Spaniard and bad-tempered Italian. He didn't even understand why Antonio would take Spanish when he was a native speaker. (Maybe he wanted an easy A?) English was almost everyone's second language at this school, seeing as people came from all over Eurasia. Oh, and that one dude from Australia, Jett. He was pretty cool; he even had a koala, which made him even more awesome. Not as awesome as Gilbert and Alfred, but awesome enough.

Maybe he would decide to make some meal today and show Arthur what a breakfast was supposed to taste like. The British teen, luckily, hadn't decided to cook since that one ti—wait, that had only been two days ago.

Still, he was going to make a decent breakfast today or die trying. That sounded like a terrible way to die, though, so he hoped that he wouldn't fall into the stovetop flames or something.

Alfred had remembered all the times he had seen Matthew cooking pancakes—he's Canadian, what do you expect?—so making a meal should be easy enough. The boy pulled out ingredients from the cabinets as he looked for a recipe on his phone.

•••

Arthur awoke to the feeling of squirming in his arms as America struggled to leave. He could smell bacon and eggs cooking from the kitchen, a change from the ramen and instant-meals he had been forced to eat for the past few days. Besides that one time he had attempted to cook and according to Alfred, had failed.

It wasn't his fault that he wasn't a good cook. Arthur had gotten those genes from his father, and that was why his mother had always cooked the meals. It made him so depressed for a few days after he had watched _Ratatouille_, and the rat was able to cook. A Disney-made _rat_ could prepare food better than he could as a _human_.

America slid off the bed as soon as Arthur slackened his grip around her. For a robot, she was fairly realistic. Actually, very realistic. It was creepy.

The blond followed the little girl, who was steadily crawling to her "father". The said was standing by the edge of the small stove of the kitchenette, finishing up the last of the meal. Arthur had to admit, it looked much better than anything he had ever cooked. There was so much food; Arthur wasn't even sure they would be able to eat it. The image would've only been more complete if Alfred had been in a frilly pink apron.

•••

"How much food did you eat?" Arthur asked, slightly concerned Alfred was going to explode with the amount of food inside him. The azure-eyed blond had made a plate stacked high with pancakes, and the Brit had only eaten two. That meant the other teen had eaten the rest of the plate. Arthur had known Alfred was a glutton, as they had been best friends for years, but God...

Alfred was drinking coffee as Arthur was drinking his tea. It kind of made the older teen annoyed that the younger was a better cook than him. That was considering the fact that the American was always going to McDonald's and fast food—whoever stuck the 's' in there was a smart bastard—and that Arthur loved to bake, and was always practising—though, unfortunately, never got better.

The blue-eyed teen was bouncing the little baby girl on his knee, who was giggling loudly, hanging onto Alfred's chest for dear life. It was still creepy to think that America wasn't even a real baby.

"Enough," Alfred responded vaguely, still smiling from his fun with the little "country". He had even taken the time to get out some applesauce for America. It was actually really adorable, in a non-homosexual way. She would pout and refuse to eat it. that is, until her "father" did the airplane or train trick.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

••••••••

~Sapphire


	6. Chapter 5

**Ok, so I was thinking that I hadn't given enough fan service for all the other pairings, so here it is...USUK is the last one if you don't want to read all the other pairings.**

**_Question- Would you be interested in easing a story I am planning to start after I finish this one? It's actually on my profile in "later stories", but I'll just put it here too:_**

**_Summary- Four teens are chosen for a reality television show, in hopes that the girl will fall for the boy. Those four people are Arthur Kirkland, Isabel Carriedo, Alfred F. Jones, and Lovina* Vargas. The pairs are already decided as Isabel and Arthur, and Lovina and Alfred. But what happens when the Arthur falls for the wrong person? Not as in wrong girl though, as in Alfred, the other boy on the show. USUK and Fem!SpainxFem!Romano (slight SpUK and Romerica considering the circumstances)_**

**_(Himaruya said he liked the name Chiara, and I kind of like it better than Lovina, so I might use that.)_**

**All of these scenes are about a month in.**

**•••**

"Elizaveta, it's time to feed Vienna," Roderich stated flatly, sitting on the floor of the room that he and his Hungarian girlfriend shared. She, along with Kiku, had been dressing up Vienna and Athens—Kiku's and Heracles' child—in miniature cosplay outfits and taking pictures.

"Just give me a few more minutes! I just want to finish up with this outfit!" The green-eyed girl continued to snap pictures. The two babies were currently dressed in matching Vocaloid outfits with Vienna as Rin and Athens as Len. They looked absolutely adorable, in Elizaveta's opinion.

Vienna was a cheerful little girl who had green eyes and curly hair like Elizaveta, but the colour of Roderich's dark brownish-black hair. Athens was a quiet little boy with short brown hair and eyes the shade of dark chocolate. But currently, both of them were wearing little baby wigs and clothes. Athens just kind of sat there while Elizaveta dressed both of the babies, but Vienna kept squirming around and giggling. Her energy was adorable until it was time to go to sleep and she kept them both up. (Elizaveta refused to switch her off because she wanted to be prepared for when she would have children.

"That's what you said an hour ago," Roderich replied, clearly annoyed with his girlfriend, despite how much he loved her. The brunette pouted up at him, crossing her arms over her chest. The Austrian sighed, "Fine, you can finish this up. Ten minutes at the most."

The Hungarian squealed and gave him a hug. But she got back to work immediately with Kiku; she wanted to get the most out of those ten minutes so generously given to her.

**•••**

"Why couldn't we have taken care of a cat?" Heracles wondered aloud back at his and Kiku's dorm. Not that he minded Athens. The little boy was quiet, a perfect fit for both of the mostly-silent parents. The Greek teenager just liked cats better than humans in general.

He shrugged off the question before going back to sleep. The Japanese boy would wake Heracles when he got back.

**•••**

"Feli, we can't feed her pasta," Ludwig told the Italian with a sigh. Their little girl's name was Venice, named after a city in Italy, where Feliciano had been born. Venice had honey amber eyes like the Italian, and light blond hair like the German. And the little curl that the auburn-haired teen had, but hers was not an erogenous zone for the simple fact that she wasn't real.

"Ve~ Why not?" the Italian asked cluelessly. Feliciano was not the sharpest tool in the shed...or the second...or the third, but he had a certain innocent air to him that made him irresistible to girls. Or in this case, his boyfriend, Ludwig. Three weeks into the project—so roughly a week ago—the two of them had started dating. Four of the nine pairs had become couples already; Antonio and Lovino, Feliciano and Ludwig, Francis and Jeanne, and Roderich and Elizaveta, who had been a couple in the first place.

"She doesn't have teeth," the German replied, and the brunette checked, as if making sure. And as the blond had said, Venice didn't have them yet, nor would she ever. Yet the little girl looked eager enough to eat the Italian dish her "mother" had made, though, unfortunately, she couldn't eat it.

Feliciano looked sad for a moment, not being able to share his love of pasta with his "daughter". But his face lit up as he realised one thing, "That means more for us!"

**•••**

"Antonio, I fucking swear, I will hurt you if you do not fucking let go of me," Lovino growled at the Spaniard. The older teen had came from behind and wrapped his arms around the Italian's neck. His head was resting on his boyfriend's shoulder as the younger boy was cooking pizza for the two of them. With lots of tomatoes, of course.

"Aw, Lovi! But you are _muy adorable_!" Antonio exclaimed, which just made Lovino smack him across the head. He pouted, "Fine, I'll let you go if you tell me you love me." The smaller teen blushed as he attempted push Antonio off of him to get out of saying the embarrassing words.

"Lovi, you look like a little _tomate_!" the Spaniard commented, making the younger blush harder—that is, if it was possible. Lovino muttered something inaudible to Antonio. "Lovi, I can't hear you," the green-eyed teen whined, but secretly delighted that the brunette had agreed to his wishes, as he usually got out of saying the words so frequently said to him by Antonio.

"I said," Lovino started out with his voice at a normal volume, but getting quieter with each word, "_ti amo, bastardo_." The affectionate brunette kissed his Lovi on the cheek before whispering into his boyfriend's ear, "_Te amo_, Lovi." The Italian practically jumped from the feel of the taller boy's breath on his ear.

A cry came from other room as Valencia awoke to both of the boys gone, "Damn it, Antonio; you are going to fix that." The amber-eyed boy went back to finishing up the pizza so they would actually have something to eat for the night.

**••• **

If York—Peter and Angioletto's "son"—had feelings, he surely would've been elated.

Both the freshmen had lots of energy, so they had lots of time to play with the little boy. Not to mention that Peter thought Angioletto made excellent Italian food. Much better than his stupid jerk-of-a-brother, Arthur's. If his older brother's cooking was considered edible, then the Seborgian's food was considered gourmet in comparison. No, scratch that. The brunette's food was gourmet even if Arthur's food was considered terrible.

The two, unknown to the public, were actually in a relationship like four of the other pairs. Why they would keep it cpsecret is a complete mystery—or how they kept it secret with both of their loud mouths. That plus their personalities was the only thing they had in common. Their appearances were completely different—Peter a blond, blue eyed boy with large eyebrows like his older brothers, and Angioletto a brunette with pale green eyes with normal eyebrows and the signature Vargas curl. Their siblings were different—well, Lovino and Feliciano were Angioletto's cousins, but he lived with them, so they were the equivalent. Peter's siblings were out to make his life miserable, while Feli and Lovi weren't always teasing Angioletto like Peter's siblings teased him.

Currently, they were at the park with York. It was actually quite funny watching Peter attempt to push the brunette with York on his lap. People gave them weird looks until they just assumed they were lovers or best friends babysitting for one of their parents. Although the baby looked a great deal like it was theirs. But that was impossible, men couldn't have children together. Unless one was a cross dresser dressed as a man or a hermaphrodite.

But they didn't give a damn what all those people who saw them thought because they were having a great time.

**•••**

Meanwhile, Francis and Jeanne were doing dirty things in the bedroom. That's right, cleaning up the room filthied from their energetic little boy, France. They had picked the name because both of them were born in the country of love. Except Jeanne seemed more stubborn about falling in love, whereas the Frenchteen had fallen in love at least five times a day before he had met the love of his life.

That sounded hopelessly romantically cliché...But, the blue-eyed blond was from France, the country of love. It was normal to be romantically cliché.

**•••**

"Gilbert, I think you should stop throwing him around..." Matthew trailed off in his quiet manner. The albino was currently throwing the baby up in the air as a parent would do to make their child giggle. It was working, as Berlin was the epitome of laughter at the moment.

Berlin was a little white-haired boy with indigo eyes. Matthew was actually glad hat he was the mother; this combination looked better than blond hair and red-pink eyes would've looked. That would've looked really creepy. He was a quiet boy, but he was always loud when around the self proclaimed Prussian.

"Come on, Birdie. He looks like he's having fun with the awesome me." Matthew rolled his eyes. Gilbert was such an arrogant teenager, it was impossible to see how the quietest boy in the school had fallen for him so easily. And why did he call him Birdie? There was that little chick named Gilbird—he would admit, if his name was Gilbert and he had a pet bird, he would name it Gilbird—that he was so fond of. But that couldn't be why...right?

Matthew shrugged, perhaps he would find out later. For now, he would be happy watching the albino play with the miniature albino.

**•••**

Lili was kind of annoyed. As annoyed as the tiny freshman could be.

Vash just looked at her as a younger sister—which she wasn't. They hade different surnames: Vash Zwingli and Lili Vogel. The two had known each other since they were children; Vash had been five, and she, three. Ever since that one day on the playground where she had gotten teased and pushed around by children older than her, the Swiss boy had been overprotective of her.

The problem was that she had developed a small crush on him—which was completely justified. He was always protecting Lili, and the Liechtensteinian girl personally found it adorable. Not so much when he was pounding someone into the ground, but still. She had even cut her hair to be like his when she was nine years old. Of course, she had to wear a ribbon in her hair so that people knew she was a girl. It was at times like this when she hated how flat her chest was. (Not during gym though. Seeing how Katyusha got so tired easily because of what Lili didn't have made her feel slightly better, though she felt slightly guilty thinking that.)

So she had been delighted when they had been paired up in the Home Economics class to be "married". Seeing how it had brought most of the pairs closer, it made her even happier. For example, it had made Lovino & Antonio and Feliciano & Ludwig couples—finally, she had been thinking at the time; she was a little bit of a yaoi fangirl—and had even stopped Arthur and Alfred from fighting. Perhaps it could bring Vash and her together...?

**••• (Time skip about five hours~)**

"Alfred, get the bloody hell off of my bed!" Arthur growled at the whimpering teenager. Why did Alfred even propose watching a scary movie if he knew that he was going to get like this. When they had had sleepovers as children, Alfred's mother was the overly doting type, so they were never allowed to watch horror movies. They didn't even try to have them at Arthur's home because of the monsters the Brit called siblings.

It was a good thing too, if this is how he had always reacted. Liam or William would definitely attempt to scare them afterwards. Gavin wasn't that much of a jerk; he was probably the nicest out of the siblings to the pair of blonds. Nice didn't qualify as in Matthew-nice though. He still was plotting with the other two to make Arthur's life a living hell.

"But Arthur," Alfred pleaded, "it's not like I'm going to molest you in your sleep. She's going to crawl out of the T.V and get me!" the American wailed. Arthur could tell he was genuinely terrified from the movie they had watched—_The Ring_—and not just wanting to sleep in h—wait, why would he even think that Alfred would just want to sleep in his bed? It wasn't as if there was anything going on between them.

"Get your pillow," Arthur replied with a sigh. He could make a barrier between them so that neither of them would have to end up spooning the other unconsciously in the morning. How awkward that would be. The cerulean-eyed boy gave him a smile full of gratitude before reaching over onto his bed—he was sitting on the floor in between the beds, as the Englishteen had pushed him off—that was only a few feet away. Alfred plucked the pillow off quickly, as if there was something under it that was going to attack him.

Meanwhile, Arthur was building up the barrier in the middle, so that he could actually sleep without being even more uncomfortable than he was already going to be. They both got into their own sides of the makeshift separator. The English blond sighed once again; this was going to be a long night...

**••••**

**Translations (I mean, I did these without a translator, so correct me if I'm wrong. But this is pretty much common knowledge among Hetalia fans.) **

**Spanish:**

**Muy adorable- very adorable**

**Tomate- tomato**

**Te amo- I love you**

**Italian:**

**Ti amo, bastardo- I love you, bastard**

**~Sapphire**


	7. Chapter 6

**Yay, update! Get ready for me to kill your feels. Not enough to make you cry, but enough. It made me so sad writing it.**

**Question: Favourite anime? If it's Hetalia, say your second favourite.**

**My second would have to be Death Note or Mirai Nikki. **

**•••**

Alfred awoke to shoving. Why was Arthur pushing him off the bed? Hadn't the Brit agreed to let him stay on the bed as long as he stayed on his side of the barrier? Well, it wasn't as if the shorter blond was strong enough to push him off.

The blue-eyed boy mentally shrugged before snuggling back into his warm pillow. Wait, why was the pillow warm? He opened his eyes for the first time that morning to see that he was wrapping his arms around a flushed boy who was yelling at him to, "Get the hell off, you git!" Maybe he could pretend he was still sleeping..? Arthur made a pretty good heater, and he had kicked off his blanket during the night.

"Alfred, I know you're awake, get off of me before I kick you in the face!" Arthur yelled at him.

Just then, Elizaveta, still rubbing her eyes, as it was early in the morning, walked in, "Can you guys keep it down? Some people are trying to sl—" She cut herself off as she noticed the scene in front of her. The Hungarian girl smiled before leaving and closing the door behind her. Through the wall, the two heard her tell Roderich something.

"Roddie, it's time to pay up. Alfred finally got the guts to bed Arthur. Ten dollars," she sounded smug, as if she had expected this all along. If she was betting on them getting together, she _had_ been expecting this all along.

Arthur shoved the older teen off with one last push, and Alfred fell to the floor. "What was that for?" The American pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Did he really not care what just happened? God, it was going to be middle school all over again; everyone knew that Elizaveta was fairly decent at keeping secrets. Fairly decent. Everyone knew she was in love with yaoi, especially Roderich. Now, the girl thought that the two were lovers, and was sure to blab about it before the week was over.

Arthur stared at the other blond with a face that clearly said 'you have got to be kidding me', "Now, she thinks that we're together, and it's your bloody fault." Alfred cocked his head, and asked, "Why is that bad?" The Brit had the sense to turn his face away as he blushed fiercely. "I mean, people thought that before. It wasn't true; why would people think it's true now?"

"Do you remember what happened last time people thought that?" the older boy asked through gritted teeth. He hated to admit it, but he actually enjoyed the other's presence. Even though Alfred was a completely oblivious idiot. So it was kind of torturous to have to ignore him.

"Why did you even get upset? It wasn't as if the rumors were true. You avoided the question last time," Alfred asked, getting kind of upset. His best friend had just abandoned him when a stupid rumour had gotten in the way. He knew Arthur seemed more sensitive, though the Brit would kick Alfred's arse if he ever said it, but _damn_, this was just on the road to girlishness. Alfred had suspected that Arthur was going to be crossing-dressing and talking like Feliks after that.

"Because I was in love with a boy at that time, and still am," the Briton replied, almost inaudible. Alfred had to lean in to hear what he had said; it was so quiet. Ah, so that was why he had been so touchy about the rumour.

It wasn't as if the American was homophobic or anything, so it didn't matter. Hell, his very own _twin_ was gay—though Alfred hadn't been very happy about it; he didn't want his brother to end up like a heartbroken girl. The pushover that was Matthew was sure to be the girl in the relationship, and that meant he would be the one eating ice cream on a couch while watching soap operas because a guy had dumped him.

"What was he like?" Alfred asked quietly. He really didn't want Elizaveta to hear the conversation through the wall, seeing as her gay-loving side would come out and she would try to convince Arthur to give up the name so she could play matchmaker. This was one of the rare times he could read the atmosphere, and didn't exactly want to force the name out of his ex-best friend.

"He was adorable; brilliant, yet such an idiot...Innocent, though it wouldn't seem it...Oblivious to the simplest things, yet could make anyone laugh and cheer them up," the older teen said with a laugh, "and the last person he'd fall for is me." Who in the world could Arthur be talking about? Feliciano fit most of them...except that he definitely seemed innocent. Alfred had decided a while back that Antonio was not in the least bit innocent; proof enough was that he was in the 'Bad Touch Trio', as everyone called them instead of what they called themselves, the 'Bad Friends Trio'.

"What makes you think that?" Alfred asked, feeling horrible that his friend's feelings wouldn't be returned by this mysterious one-sided lover.

"I know for an absolute fact that's he straight. Plus, we weren't in the best situation," theBriton sadly smiled at him, "but thank you for caring." Who was he in a bad situation with? Francis? Ivan? No, that was impossible; Arthur was terrified of Ivan for some reason. It had something to do with the blond's imaginary friends and magic. ((Like England was terrified of Russia in canon because of how he broke Busby's chair.)) Alfred hadn't thought much of his 'friends' back then, but past elementary school was a bit too far to be believing in them.

"Can you tell me who it is? Maybe we can find a way to get them to like you back," the American asked obliviously.

By now, Arthur had also been on the floor for the past five minutes, sitting with his knees together and legs by his thighs so that he was sitting in the middle of his legs. He was leaned against the bed. Alfred was on the floor sitting Japanese-style, sitting on his legs, the short distance of two feet away. The golden blond as leaning forward in anticipation as he waited anxiously for a name so that he could help. It was too bad his attempts would be fruitless.

The Brit just smiled a sad smile at his own misery before replying, "It's useless. You are so close to him, you wouldn't be able to keep it from him. He would just find it disgusting and hate me more."

"If you're talking about Matthew, pretty sure that's not going to work out well for you, dude. He's already got himself a boyfriend, or practically does, though he had to pick one of the most annoying people in the school," Alfred replied. Gilbert had been pretty awesome before; now that he knew about his twin's little crush, he found him rather annoying.

"No, it's not Matthew. I think Gilbert would murder me if I ever tried to get with him," Arthur said, with a laugh. How did he seem so cheerful when he was clearly in pain? Was he a masochist of some sorts? Even Feliciano—Alfred's atmosphere searching buddy; they had never found the book of the atmosphere unfortunately—and Alfred himself would be able to tell how miserable Arthur was.

"Let's just leave it at that," Arthur continued before crawling back into bed. At least the bottled-up feelings had been let out. Maybe now, he could let those unreturned feelings go.

**•••**

The green-eyed blond awoke for the second time that day. He felt a hand softly stroking through his hair. The teen didn't dare move; the azure-eyed teen was being so sweet. It sounded so girly, but that was the truth.

He shifted his eyes so that he could see what the younger boy was doing. Alfred was sitting on Arthur's bed—more like laying—to the other's right with one foot straight out, and the other folded in a triangle shape. The American was doing something on his phone as his hand ran through the older teenager's blond hair just a shade lighter than his own.

Just then, Arthur had a idea that would be hilarious. As Alfred's hand was running through his hair, he grabbed it, making the American practically jump off the bed. They had watched that horror movie yesterday, so he had an excuse to be scared. But when he saw that it was just the Briton's hand grabbing his arm, he blushed intensely, and pulled hand away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Arthur asked slowly, letting go of the younger boy's arm so that the latter could fully pull away.

"I was trying to relax you," Alfred put his phone down before turning back to the other boy, "you kept moving around in your sleep. You looked like you were having a nightmare." Nightmare? He hadn't even dreamt, let alone had a nightmare. Maybe it was one of those you forget before you even wake up..?

"And anyways, I felt bad for prying about it. Trying to calm you down was the least I could do," Alfred pouted that his attempts to help weren't appreciated. Arthur rolled his eyes with a sigh. He could never resist that face, especially when they were younger. Alfred had been shorter than him back then, and hadn't had his glasses. He still had the same little cowlick though.

Arthur flicked the little cowlick that Alfred had ridiculously dubbed Nantucket. (He had also named his glasses Texas; it was a miracle that Alfred hadn't had to get a 'Texas 2'.) The older teen flushed again before slapping his hand away, "Don't touch that," he waned firmly. That kind of made Arthur want to touch it again to understand why it made him so flushed, but he respected his friend's wishes because of the serious tone his voice took on.

"Just get off and go get America," the Briton sighed once again, sitting up as Alfred got off. It was an absolute miracle that she hadn't woken up during the night, and the fact that she still hadn't woken up. America was just sitting on Alfred's bed, so he literally just took one step over, lifted the sleeping baby gently, and stepped back. The American handed the little girl to her "mother", and he hurried off to go find food for her in the tiny kitchenette.

Meanwhile, as Alfred was getting out food for her, Arthur gently woke the small child up. America awoke with a small yawn—though considered a large one for a small baby her size—and wrapped her petite arms around the Briton. She smiled, not crying for once. It made the older teen smile at how cute she was.

The blond returned with a jar of baby food. It was kind of annoying that they had to buy things for America when she wasn't even real. But it didn't make much of a difference considering that most students at this school had rich parents who loved to waste money. This included Alfred and Matthew's mother.

Arthur was bouncing America gently on his knee, and he reached over to the nightstand in between the two beds and pulled out something small. As Alfred walked in, he saw that he small object was in fact a small, white, star hair clip, in which Arthur pulled her bangs that almost covered her right eye back and clipped them to the rest of her hair.

"Dude, why do you keep hair clips in our nightstand? You told me you were gay, but seriously," Alfred joked, before Arthur took the nearest thing—a hardback book—and threw it at the American's head. The Briton was blushing as he said, "These aren't for me, git. I got them for America when I went out and got groceries yesterday. And I'm not gay, it's just that one boy."

"Why won't you tell me who he is?" Alfred whined. Arthur stubbornly remained silent as he reached for the baby food in the taller teenager's hand and the small spoon in the other. Alfred smirked before saying, "At least give me a hint. It doesn't even have to be something big. Tell me and I'll give you this."

Arthur glared at the younger boy. He bit his lip, trying to think of something vague enough so Alfred wouldn't be able to figure out who he was talking about.

"He goes to this school."

Alfred was never gonna get his best friend a boyfriend.

**••••**

**This is a USUK story. It's very obvious who he was talking about. Except to Alfred, of course. Arthur get over it; he's not going to think it's disgusting if he's willing to pair you up with whoever it is. **

**I decided that I will no longer put super long author notes. No one wants to read those. They even annoy me.**

**_~Sapphire_**


	8. Chapter 7

**Holy f*ck. 73 reviews. Over 100 follows and 61 favourites. You guys are going to kill me of happiness! ≧◡≦ I had the hardest time coming up with a situation in which they could be drunk. The dorms are too small to hold a party, Alfred lives too far away, or else he wouldn't be living at the dorms. So I got this.**

**Question: Germany or Prussia? Veneziano or Romano? America or Canada? And last, Ukraine, Belarus, or Russia? I'm going to make you pick between the siblings. :3**

**Mine- Germany, Romano, America, Ukraine. I like Germany better, but Prussia is funnier. Romano made me so sad how he feels like everyone likes Veneziano better, so someone has to be on his side. America- nationalism. And the fact that he's so oblivious it's hilarious. The dub for him especially is amazing, though everyone is great in the dub. Ukraine is the most like me in personality, except I'm not as much of a crybaby.**

•••

Alfred groaned at he picked up America to calm her down. She had been restless all week, and it was kind of getting on Alfred's nerves. He didn't enjoy all the attention she had had to be given that was costing him his precious sleep. And he was _900% _sure that the Brit sleeping quietly on his bed didn't either. He wasn't snoring as Arthur claimed Alfred did; the only way you could tell he was alive was through the steady rise and fall of his chest.

How did the older teen manage to sleep while America was crying? Had he really lost that much sleep? But the real question was, why didn't they just switch America off? She wasn't even _real_, for God's sake!

Alfred turned the switch on her lower back to off and closed the cover that prevented it from turning off by itself. He flopped on the bed beside Arthur, too lazy to walk the five feet across the room to his bed. He was that exhausted. And Arthur wouldn't mind, right?

**••• (The Next Day~)**

"Do you know what you need?" Alfred asked as Arthur nagged him about the mess on is side of the room, "you really need to get drunk. You bitch too much about stuff that's not gonna matter in a week." The American had his hand on his hip in a quite feminine pose—but it looked very manly, I can assure you.

"As a matter of fact, I have," Arthur retorted, crossing his arms as he spoke. "Many times," he added with a smirk. The teen had been quite rebellious back in 8th grade and freshman year. He would never admit that Alfred and he hating each other kind of led to some of the drinking.

"Aren't you the rebel," Alfred quirked a brow, slightly amused at this fact. He knew the Brit had gone all out those two years, dying his hear green and had even started smoking, so drinking wasn't really much of a stretch. But it was hard to believe this was the same person. After freshman year, Arthur had come back to school with no sign of his rebellious phase. People who hadn't been there for middle school and had only seen him as he was the past year didn't recognise him.

"We could invite Francis, Mattie, and Gilbert and all hang out and get drunk," Alfred suggested, then added with a smirk, "unless you're gonna be a pussy." Arthur's eyes flared with anger as he replied, "I am no such thing. But that sort of thing is illegal."

"Apparently you didn't care all those other times. Or are you just wussing out?" Alfred retorted. He was sure to win this time; there was no way Arthur would lose his pride, and he would surely accept. Plan Get-Arthur-Drunk-And-Get-Him-To-Confess-His-Love—o r G.A.D.A.G.H.T.C.H.L for not so short—was going to begin as soon as Arthur reluctantly said yes. Maybe he would even invite JeAnne, Francis' girlfriend just for the heck of it. She was like Elizaveta, she could be all girly, but was still boyishly tough underneath all of that.

"Fine," Arthur turned away, "but how are you even going to get alcohol if we're only 17?" Arthur asked, genuinely curious. They didn't live with their parents anymore, so it wasn't as if he could just steal from his parents' wine cellar. They had done that once, though wine had tasted terrible back then in the early 7th grade year, so they had put it back after one sip each. Not enough to even get tipsy.

"I have my ways," Alfred responded with a glint in his eye before heading over to the kitchenette, where Arthur followed. The American opened the cabinet and pulled out bottles, all different types.

"How the bloody hell did you manage to sneak these into to school dorms?" Arthur asked in disbelief. He had thought the boy was half-joking. So much for him being innocent when he had a stash of drinks under the sink. Which, by the way, was illegal for a seventeen-year old boy.

The mischievous glint in the American's eye remained, "I told you, I have my ways." The Briton had to remind himself to never trust the other teen when his cerulean eyes sparkled like the eyes of a trouble-maker. Actually, scratch that; then he would never be able to trust Alfred.

**•••**

Alfred's plan hadn't worked, apparently. That's why Arthur was sitting at the table, nursing a glass of scotch, while Alfred was out in the middle of the cleared-out apartment singing in a drunkenly off-key fashion with Gilbert and Francis. Their arms were draped around each other's shoulders; Gilbert was in the middle with Alfred on his left and Francis on his right. They were singing some American pop song. Luckily not rap; those songs were absolutely horrid these days in America.

Matthew was clapping loudly, extremely cheerful, the opposite of his quiet, shy personality. Did all drunks have the same ear for music? Their singing was terrible, though if they had been singing it correctly—not as if they were tone deaf—then the three would've at least been doing a decent performance. Arthur smiled at the ridiculous display. It was hilarious if you weren't intoxicated. But in their state, it probably seemed like a the best thing to do. Like, "I can't think straight, let's start singing loudly!"

It was a wonder Elizaveta and Roderich hadn't come over to complain. Gilbert and Matthew lived on the opposite side of Alfred and Arthur, so it was a good thing Alfred had invited them. Gilbert would be complaining about how loud they had been banging that he couldn't get his awesome beauty sleep, and then Arthur would blushing while protesting that that's not what they had been doing. (Pfft, he wished.) Alfred would probably convince Gilbert somehow that that wasn't what the two had been doing that Saturday night. And Matthew would just be in his shared room or be hiding behind the Prussian.

Elizaveta would probably be wondering what happened last night and try to turn whatever they said into some boy on boy stuff. Not that Arthur would mind. If anything, he was hoping that tonight he could actually tell Alfred how he felt, and if he denied him, hopefully Alfred would forget by morning. Win/win situation for both of them. If the American didn't like it, he forgot. If he did, it didn't matter. The only bad thing that could happen was if Alfred was fine with it, but then forgot.

But we're not even going to head there. That was worst case scenario.

"Artie, come on, you can sing with us too!" Alfred slurred excitedly.

"No, I don't sing," Arthur replied with both a smile and a shake of his head. If the Alfred before had been adorable, this version of him was even more, "and it's Arthur, not Artie. _Ar. Thur._"

"Please, Artie," the blue-eyed boy pleaded, breaking away from the rest of the singers. His eyes were filled with fake tears. The last part of the Brit's sentence had totally gone right over his head. Arthur shook his head once more, denying the younger's request. He was a decent singer—or at least he thought—but he wouldn't do this unless he was drunk like them—which he wasn't.

By now, Francis and Gilbert had finished the rest of their song and had gone to their girlfriend and boyfriend. Gilbert picked up Matthew bridal style, and was French kissing him. Which was pretty ironic since neither of them were French like Francis and Matthew. I guess they were Prussian kissing.

Matthew really didn't mind it, as the state he was in allowed him to not really worry. If a Tyrannosaurus Rex bust in through the side of the building, you can be sure Arthur would be the only one running for his life. Matthew probably wouldn't have minded being carried bridal style even if he was sober. The boy was incredibly introverted and would be too shy to tell Gilbert off. But that would never happen, considering how Arthur knew Matthew liked Gilbert in that way.

Francis took JeAnne's hand—we all know he's too weak to carry her—and led her back to their room, certainly to do dirty things. And this time, it wasn't dirty as in cleaning up a filthy room. Gilbert and Matthew followed their lead and headed to their room. It was a good thing, Arthur decided. It would've been incredibly embarrassing had they been in the room when Arthur confessed to the younger teen.

Alfred reached over for another drink, but Arthur stopped him. He really didn't want to take care of a hungover American the next morning. The Briton led Alfred to the bed with a sigh, and brought a glass of water for him to drink instead. Even if he still did have a headache in the morning, it was sure to be a lot worse without the water.

"This stuff tastes weird," Alfred commented in his drunk stupor. Of course water tasted weird if you were expecting alcohol.

"Artie, why is it so _hot_ in here?" the blond American whined. God, he was one of the drunks that took off all of his clothes. Was that a good or bad thing? The azure-eyed boy began pulling off his shirt to reveal a toned chest that Arthur had seen many times before—Alfred slept in only his boxers. I-it wasn't as if he was a pervert or anything; that title belonged to Francis.

"Alfred. Keep your clothes on," Arthur spoke firmly. This was just going to make it harder if Alfred started stripping—let me rephrase that. It was going to be more difficult if Alfred started taking off all his clothes. Something that you won't be able to make a 'that's what she said' joke out of.

"But it's too hot in here for clothes," Alfred complained, unbuttoning his jeans to take them off.

"Don't take off your pants," Arthur said with a sigh. It was nearly 11:00, so Alfred without his trousers on wasn't much different from any other night.

"Too bad!" Alfred sang, as he stepped out of his jeans.

"No, no. Pants as in your underwear, git," Arthur replied. The American pouted at this, as it felt like they were being baked inside an oven inside of the sun, "But Artie!" Arthur looked over with a glare. No matter how hot—literally both ways—Alfred may be, he really didn't want to see him naked unless something was happening between the two.

"Just go to sleep," the Briton told him, this clearly wasn't going to work out tonight. The American was just too...ridiculous when he was intoxicated. So much for his plan.

Alfred pouted for a moment before deciding that going to sleep was a good idea. Or was it a bad one? He didn't know; his mind was still fuzzy.

As he was taking off Alfred's glasses, he accidentally brushed up against the lone little cowlick. Alfred shifted uncomfortably under Arthur's touch, and his blue eyes reopened. His face was a light shade of pink, and the Brit was absolutely sure this wasn't from the alcohol. Oh yes, he had been wondering what it was about this that made Alfred blush.

Arthur sat down criss-cross applesauce by the side of the bed. The sandy blond experimentally stroked the little strand of hair, but the reaction wasn't at all expected. The Englishteen's eyes widened. He had definitely not expected this. People say to expect the unexpected, but they very well wouldn't be unexpected anymore, right? So then why would you expect them?

Alfred was kissing the Briton fully on the lips. Not a measly kiss on the cheek or forehead, but he very much preferred this over those any day. There was only a moment's hesitation on Arthur's side before the gesture was imitated.

Ah, so Nantucket was his erogenous zone.

**•••**

Three last words were uttered from one of the two before he fell asleep.

_"I love you."_

**••••**

**I know everything is moving really fast through this chapter because of so many time skips. I apologise for that because this was originally going to be a five or six chapter story.**

**And also, sorry this took so long. I was going to update sooner than this, but I got contacts earlier today and it literally took two hours to get them out. And I wasn't even the one to get them out; a lady at the store did.**

**Anyway, whatever you think they did was implied. Please review if you enjoyed the chapter! Or even if you didn't!**

**_~Sapphire_**


	9. Chapter 8

**Plot twist none of you were expecting!**

**Question: Favourite pairing? (Besides USUK) Favourite crack pairing?**

**Mine: P- GerIta CP- AmeIta or Romerica **

**I love pairing America up with almost anyone except Russia and France. But England...He only belongs to America. Maybe Japan, but never France in my opinion.**

**I was actually a USUK shipper before I was a Hetalia fan. See, I was on a website that had doujins for different animes, and I was reading Death Note because LxLight was my first yaoi pairing ever. Then I saw the category for Hetalia, and I was like, "I've heard about this anime before, but haven't watched it. But yaoi is yaoi, so let's just read some!" So I chose USUK because it had America, my country in it. :3 Then I actually watched Hetalia, and that children, is how I fell in love with this pairing.**

**Sorry for OOCness with the BTT if they are!**

**The last scene of this chapter has been my favourite throughout the whole story because of its happisadness and how inspirational it is. I think that, and I'm the one who wrote it. I didn't put this at the end because I just wanted to leave you like, "Wow." Not reading my author notes.**

**•••**

Arthur awoke feeling awful. He felt as though he had used the poor drunk boy to his advantage. He carefully slid out of the American's arms wrapped around him, trying not to wake Alfred. Though the pain in his arse was quite hard to ignore as he moved, he silently walked over to the bathroom to take a shower.

He turned the knob to warm and stepped in after undressing. After sleeping naked the whole night, the warm water felt like heaven on earth. Arthur squirted out a little of the shampoo, lathering it into his hair as if it would make him forget the events of last night.

**•••**

Alfred was feeling exhilarated. Well, except for the fact that Arthur wasn't still in his arms like the Briton had fallen asleep. His Plan B had actually worked. You see, this particular American was more devious than it appeared.

He hadn't been drunk at all, sure he had drank quite a bit, but he had a high alcohol tolerance. See, this is what happens when Gilbert and Matthias are your drinking buddies. But he had seen enough to know how to act like a drunk. That was exactly what he had done last night. The other people were actually drunk though, or at least he thought they were.

But he also felt a little bad for the Brit, whom he thought he had been using. Alfred thought the boy had just been submissive, and seeing as they were 17 year-old boys, he was sure to have his urges. How Alfred wanted it to mean so much more though. When they stopped fighting towards the beginning of the project, Alfred had finally had the chance to be close to him once again. And he had developed a small—cough, cough, not so small, cough, cough—crush on the other boy during those five short weeks.

Alfred sat up with a large yawn. The American had meant what he had said last night before he fell asleep though. Arthur had already been asleep, curled up against Alfred's chest, so it was fine. He almost wished Arthur had been awake to hear them, in hopes that he would say the same words right back.

**•••**

Arthur raked his hand through his wet hair as he stood in the stream of water in the shower. He had no idea what to do to make the situation less awkward. There was no getting around the fact of what they had done last night. (Unless you're the author and like to word it as vaguely as possible.)

The real question was would Alfred even remember? Or would he forget that anything happened because he was that inebriated? The Briton wasn't even sure which he'd prefer. But last night had been pretty damn good, so if Alfred didn't remember anything, he was greatly missing out.

**•••**

Alfred had finally returned from the bathroom; as Arthur had finished, he had stepped into the bathroom wordlessly—something he was rarely. The Briton looked up from his tea—Earl Grey, of course—to see the American in jeans and pulling on a black t–shirt. After a moment, Alfred spoke as the other took a sip of his tea.

"Look, dude. I'm really sorry about what happened last night and for taking advantage of you," the American said awkwardly, making Arthur practically choke on his tea, "I'm not very good with this kind of shit, so can you please just forgive me?" Alfred was asking for forgiveness? Why in the world would he be doing that?

"You're asking for forgiveness?" Arthur asked a little louder than he should've, making Alfred flinch. "Alfred, you were drunk. It was definitely not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it's me." The American didn't dare tell him that he hadn't been intoxicated in the least. (Well, he had drank, but wasn't flat out drunk.)

After another sip of tea, Arthur asked the question Alfred had been bracing himself again since the conversation started twenty seconds ago. "So where does this put us now?" The taller blond cocked his head in thought. He could just come out and say he was in love with him, but how would the older boy react? Why did this have to be so damn hard?

"It was just a drunk mistake," Alfred decided, "I'm sorry for forcing you into it." Arthur looked up at him, bewildered. There were two things wrong with that. First, the Briton would've never been forced into it. Second, Alfred didn't force him into it. Although about five seconds after he realised what Nantucket was, the American had taken the lead and ravished him (which Arthur had very much enjoyed).

Arthur just hmphed before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him. What had gotten him so upset?

**•••**

The Briton looked up at the stormy sky before opening the umbrella he had taken from beside the door. The rain made him feel more at home. He had only lived in England for five years, but he loved London so very much. His parents had made it a tradition to bring them home every summer, as if trying to make up for moving in the first place. But if they were going to do that, they might as well just move back.

Arthur sighed from the events that had just unfolded. Did Alfred really believe that he would've been so submissive or so horny as to not care who it was above him? The idiot really was clueless if that was what he thought.

What was he to do? Even with the "drunk mistake" thing, it would still be incredibly awkward around each other, and who knew how long that uncomfortable spell would last?

**•••**

A certain American was currently talking to a certain Frenchteen, a certain Prussian, and a certain Spaniard about what had happened between him and that certain Brit. Because everyone knew that these three were the best to turn to during love troubles.

"So you finally got the courage to confess, _oui_?" Francis asked, amused. It was obvious to him, someone from the country of love when someone was in love with another.

"Wait, what? I don't ever remember telling you that I liked Arthur," Alfred exclaimed, "oh, dammit. You sneaky bastard."

"I didn't, but you just confirmed it," Francis replied with a smirk. He had his ways to learn about people.

"_Eyebrows_ of all people?" Antonio asked in disbelief. Antonio and Arthur, as well as Francis and Arthur didn't ever have a good relationship. Actually, the Brit didn't like Gilbert either, so he basically disliked the whole Bad Touch Trio. Alfred glared at Antonio for insulting his (hopefully) future boyfriend.

"And what's so good about your little boyfriend?" Alfred retorted, knowing this would set the Spanish teen off. He was very protective of his little Italian.

"Lovi is better than Eyebrows will ever be," the brunet replied, crossing his arms over his chest. Alfred was going to say something snarky back before Gilbert interrupted him.

"Oi, both of you shut up. The awesome me doesn't want to hear your unawesome fighting. Look at West and Feli. Moral of the story, everyone fucks their opposite," the Prussian—even though Prussia was gone before he was born—said. At least he had gotten the two to stop fighting.

"So anyway.." Alfred told the three the story about how he had gotten drunk and what had happened.

"Then what's the problem, _mon ami_?" Francis asked, clearly interested in Alfred's love life. It was a good thing that Fracnsi was actually interested; it wouldn't turn out like the one time the blond had told Feliciano to show Kiku and Ludwig his butt. The American really didn't want an answer like that.

"I wasn't drunk," Alfred flat-out replied, "and after I told him it was just a drunk mistake, he stormed out the door."

Antonio laughed, despite their mishap earlier, "_Mi amigo_, he's just like Lovi, then. He's pretends to be too tough to admit his feelings, but inside, he's really just a softie!" Alfred looked at the brunet in disbelief.

"What he is saying, is that Arthur wanted it to be more than just a fling," Francis explained, twirling a stand of his long blond hair. "You haven't noticed the feelings that he's had for you all these years? It was very obvious, at least to _moi_. But that may just be because I am from the country of love." The Frenchteen smirked, "You would had to be blind to be that close to him and not notice it."

"So basically, what you're saying," Alfred said slowly, not believing a word out of their mouths, "is that he likes me back." The blond was glad they were also gay—or 2/3 of them were, with the other one being bisexual—or else they probably would've made fun of him. That's probably what was going to happen if—when—the American and the Brit got together.

"_Ja_," Gilbert replied simply before walking away. He would just listen to gossip to know if the two were an item later on. Now, it was time to find his Birdie. (No, not Gilbird. That thing was in his hair listening the whole time.)

**•••**

Arthur walked through the town, looking at all the people, couples and singles alike. Everyone was different, it seemed. There were some people who looked as if they were a match made in heaven while others looked like they could never work out. But if sharing an umbrella—and in some instances, kissing in the rain—were any indication, they did.

There were people who looked like they could have anyone they chose, yet walked alone. He could see there was a girl who had cuts on her wrists, just barely showing through her piled-up bracelets. She caught him looking, but he just smiled to her, as of to say, "Don't worry. Everything will get better." The girl softly smiled back before turning into a nearby store and closing her umbrella.

It was almost poetic how different everyone seemed. He was just one in millions—no, billions—in the world, and there were people in situations much worse than his. It didn't seem right that he was sulking when there were kids in Africa smiling at the simplest things, not caring how they were almost starving to death.

He couldn't help but think that if this was a romance movie, or maybe a novel, that Alfred would come running, looking for him. The other teen would confess his love, and they would share a sweet kiss. No lust or sexual intentions, just a chaste kiss on the lips. Nothing else would matter, everyone else would disappear from their sight except for each other.

But alas, it didn't seem this would happen. It didn't matter though; he was better off than some people in the world, where their love had died in war, or had been murdered brutally.

A homeless man sat in the rain, not having an item to his name besides some clothes and shoes. Arthur smiled before handing him the umbrella. The older man looked up, unsure if he should take the generous offering. The Briton nodded before walking away. The other had a grateful smile on his face, "Thank you." The teenager just nodded wordlessly as he walked back towards the dorms. The rain soaked his clothes and hair as he walked, but it wasn't as if he wasn't used to it from the five years and twelve summers' worth of rain in London.

Arthur just thought about his life so far as he walked, all the good things about it and how it could've ended up worse than how it is now. One thought stayed at the back of his mind, and sometimes strayed to the front though.

'_Maybe Alfred will grow to love me.'_

**•••**

**~Sapphire**


	10. Chapter 9

**I have yet to thank all of you for reviewing and following and favouriting. Thank you for reviewing Hanareader, ELMOSWURLDisscary, Amy Kitty Katz, Autumnlovestomatoes, Elizabeth Duchanne, Hayley Granger, Miss Fabulous, Skysword, MIKAthecatlady, Hunteraka Girl, The Last of Us, Kalina, NanaMii148, Guest (Ch. 2), Zingfox, Yuki Kirkland, TooBitter, Whitlinger, Rookanga, Lynxheart of Darkclan, IWantsRussia, Marachinocherry, Iggymochi, RiderPhantomhive, Nikkicchi, Elisha, ClaireNyaan, MidnightWhispersInTheDark, TheHeroicAmerica, SpiritedUsUk, Nerdyfanchick, Ariddle-Ascare, Marrissa Jones Vargas, AroPeterWam, Alexa6, Raze, Aphrodite Goddess of Beauty, Sparklybutterfly42, HimeConnie, Shadedfeather, Insane-assylum-13, JesslaBleh, Dolce Latte van Creme, and Jojoandpicnic97**

**Question: First anime that made you cry? (If one has) Mine- Code Geass. The part when Lelouch died for Nunnally, and the fact that he planned his death just killed me.**

**Is anyone else like me where it takes a lot to make them cry, so everyone is commenting, "Omg, this made me cry so hard" and you just feel like a heartless jerk for not being able to cry? **

**Thank you Jojoandpicnic97 for reminding me about teething. I completely forgot since I've never babysat a very young child, nor had children of my own. **

**•••**

Arthur opened the door to see Alfred sitting on the bed, lulling America—who apparently hadn't been on before—to sleep.

The American looked up to see the other blond, soaking wet, walking in through the door. His blond hair looked brown from the rainwater, and you could practically see through his wet t-shirt. "Are you okay?" Alfred asked softly, not wanting to wake the baby that he had just put to sleep.

Arthur just nodded wordlessly. "You should really take a shower. You don't want to get sick, do you?" The American set America down gently before getting to his feet an walking towards Arthur. He wrapped his arms around the Brit, "What kind of hero would I be if I couldn't at least save you from sickness?"

The Briton shivered unconsciously from the feel of the warm breath against his ear. Alfred pulled Arthur towards the bathroom so that he could take the shower he needed. He kissed him lightly before pushing the Briton in the door, leaving the latter dumbfounded.

**•••**

Arthur could still feel the ghost of the American's lips on his own before the other had pushed him into the bathroom. Why had he done that? Was it that he didn't need to grow to love him; he already did?

Well, the quicker the shower was, the less time he would be left wondering.

**•••**

"Why won't she stop crying?" Alfred shouted. She had awoken once again when the water in the shower was turned on. How did that wake her? It barely made a noise!

The American had tried everything he could before Arthur had gotten home. She had refused being fed, and hadn't needed her diaper changed. The baby had been trying to put everything in her mouth. This varied from the television remote to some of Arthur's books to Alfred's own hand.

The little girl had been bawling almost nonstop since he had gotten back from Francis's dorm where he had talked with the Bad Friends Trio and had turned her on. She hadn't been like this before; what happened to the little America Britannia Jones they had had before?

**•••**

Arthur returned within ten minutes, a towel fitted snugly around his waist—only because he had forgotten to get clothes to bring to the bathroom with him—to see America crying once again. She had been doing that a lot recently—not that Alfred would know, he was usually at American football practice whenever she finally got her to sleep and turned her off.

He hadn't yet figured out why though. What was it that was bothering her so much?

"Arthur!" the other blond shouted at him, even though he was only a few feet away, "hurry up and get dressed! I need your help figuring what's wrong with her!" Alfred pointed to America with his left hand he held her with his right, as if Arthur didn't know which her he was talking about.

He rolled his eyes and pulled some clothes from the dresser so that he could get dressed.

After a minute, he returned, fully dressed, and his messy hair tamed for once because of the water. He sat down next to Alfred, who was slightly bouncing her on his knee—it had made her laugh before, why not now?

"Is she hungry?" Arthur asked, taking the little girl from the American. Alfred shook his head, "No, I tried that. Her diaper's fine too, so you don't even need to bother asking about that."

America bit Arthur's finger, making the teenager slightly wince in pain. This hadn't hurt before... Dread filled Arthur as he realised why she had been crying so often, "Alfred," the blond said with a small groan. The wheat blond boy cocked his head to show he was listening as Arthur continued, "She's teething. That why she's been crying and has kept biting things."

"Keep her off for as long as we can," Alfred flatly said. He had had to babysit young children before back in 'middle school. He knew how much trouble teething was, and how miserable it was for both the baby and person taking care of it.

"I completely agree," Arthur replied, turning her off. It was a good thing there was only three weeks left.

**•••**

"What was that before?" Arthur asked as he lay on the bed, about four hours after they had realised America's problem. Alfred didn't look up from the newest issue of a comic book but responded with a, "Huh? What are you talking about? What did I do before?" That git. He knew exactly what he had done.

The Briton looked away with a cherry blossom pink staining his cheeks as he asked, "Why did you kiss me?"

There was no reaction like Arthur had, no blushing or avoiding the other's gaze—well, he was reading a comic book, so Alfred wasn't really meeting the older boy's eyes in the first place. The American just told him, "You know, I'm really not that innocent."

It took the British boy a minute before he asked, "What are you talking abo—Oh." Arthur buried his face into the pillow more, as to hide his painfully bright blush. Alfred remembered his words from the morning after they had watched the scary movie.

"When did you find out?" the Briton's words were muffled through the pillow, but Alfred could still tell what he said. There was no point in denying it; his flushed face gave him away immediately. The other boy raised his eyebrow as he responded, "Just today. But it seems Francis was right."

"Of course it was the bloody frog that figured it out and told you," Arthur mumbled under his breath, "you are too oblivious to these types of things. Even the things you should be able to figure out." In a louder voice he added, "And what now? This makes it even more uncomfortable between the two of us."

Alfred snorted, "Dude, I was never drunk in the first place. If anything, it makes me feel more comfortable knowing that you weren't just being submissive. Did you not hear what I said that night, or do I have to repeat it?" Arthur's face was now ranked the shade of Antonio and Lovino's tomatoes.

"You are going to have to repeat what you said," Arthur mumbled, once again, just barely audible for Alfred to hear.

Alfred got up from the bed and sat by the side of Arthur's bed so that he would be eye level with the Brit—that was, if the older boy ever decided to move the pillow hiding his face. Alfred waited for him to lift his face out of the pillow—it was a good two seconds, really!—but thought, 'screw that' and pulled the fluffy object out from under Arthur.

Arthur tried to turn away, but Alfred cupped the side of his face so that he couldn't. Arthur's eyes widened at what happened next. The older boy kissed him lightly like he had before, not even long enough for Arthur to return even if he wanted to. Which was pretty obvious he did.

"I love you," Alfred whispered like he had before. The American flushed a bit—though not _nearly_ as much as the Briton. Arthur pulled the other boy back into a kiss before he could move back to his bed. Alfred moved so that he was straddling the older boy, who was still flushed, but not looking like a tomato anymore.

Another kiss, this one more passionate.

Right that moment, Elizaveta opened the door—apparently she didn't know how to knock—and she stopped at the sight in front of her. This was her dream come true. She had gotten to witness these two first hand; a tsundere—she watched a lot of anime and read lots of manga, so sue her! (Actually don't. She needs that money for yaoi)—and a simple-minded boy get together. It would've been good even if either of them had been a girl, but it was even better—at least in her mind—that they were both guys.

The Hungarian girl awkwardly laughed—she didn't want them to think she was enjoying the sight too much and lock their door. "Two nights in a row? Alfred, you've really got to give Arthur a rest." Alfred threw the closest thing—a cleat from his (American) football practice—at the girl before she backed out of the room.

Meanwhile, the Bad Touch Trio was hiding behind a plant—it wasn't really working well considering how much space the three took up together, but it was the only thing in the hallway close to the American and Brit's room—waiting for Elizaveta to give them the results of their matchmaking project.

"Did it work?" Francis asked, stepping out from behind the cliché potted plant. Really, who thought to put it there? It was tacky and overused. The French teen could've probably done so much better.

Elizaveta gave a thumbs up and a smile, "Now it's time to work on Lili and Vash." She returned to her room to see Roderich holding a crying Vienna. A teething ring for her to bite down on was in her tiny hands. The Hungarian sat down at the desk to make a plan, ignoring the Austrian's pleas for help.

**•••**

"Artie, it's not a big deal. Elizaveta is cool with that type of stuff! And there's so many gay couples here, it'd be ridiculous if someone was a homophobe," Alfred told the older teen, knocking on the door of the bathroom. Arthur had locked himself in, refusing to come out because he was so embarrassed at what had happened.

Arthur opened the door slightly, and Alfred could see the older boy peeking out of the room slightly, "I'm not coming out." The door was shut once again. This was something quite immature for the supposedly 'mature' British teen.

Alfred pouted, "If you won't come out of there tomorrow, will you at least come out of the closet so I can be your boyfriend?" The Briton cracked the door once again, but instead of replying or peeking out like he had before, he smacked Alfred.

The American deserved it.

**••• (A few hours later~)**

Alfred looked at his phone's blinding screen—at least that was how it seemed in the dark lighting—to see it was already one o'clock in the morning. Arthur was probably asleep by now in there.

The blond got to his feet before searching for something to pick the lock with. Unfortunately, he wasn't a girl, so there were no hairpins in sight. After a few minutes of searching, he found something—a spare paperclip among his unfinished schoolwork—he would be able to open the door with.

Within a few minutes, the door was open, and Alfred could see Arthur leaning as he was sitting against the bathtub/shower. The sandy-blond was asleep, as the American could see the steady rise and fall of the other's chest.

The younger gently picked up the Brit, careful not to wake him. Alfred laid Arthur in his bed—Arthur's not his—and covered him with the covers. Alfred kissed the other on the forehead as a mother would do to their child before climbing into his own bed.

Though the two were the furthest thing from child and parent.

**•••**

**Sorry for the late update. I just didn't like this chapter originally, but I didn't feel like rewriting it, so I didn't. So I put off uploading for as long as I could.**

**Thanks for reading! ^.^**

**~Sapphire**


	11. Chapter 10

**Question- Has anyone heard America's new character songs? The full versions are out! :D I am really anticipating when someone translates them. In "I'm Your Hero" you can definitely hear Igirisu (You can also hear Nihon and Russia, but I'm just gonna ignore that.), which you should know is England in Japanese.**

**And have you listened to the previews for Germany's and England's Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo's? They are amazing. Germany's is all rock and awesome, and I love the way England slightly holds out some of the vowels, like the 'O' in 'Rondo'. I always loved that about his singing. Plus, his English is the best out of everyone's. I suppose that's a given though, considering he's England.**

**Totally random fact, but I just realised Italy is the only Axis Power who can say Germany's human name, Ludwig, properly because of the other two's accents.**

**To my wonderful reviewers: Thank you so much! I was going to do this for the 100th review, but that one was from an anonymous reviewer. The 150th reviewer will have a one-shot dedicated to them, and I will PM the lucky reader about it! Good luck, and *Capitol accent* may the odds be ever in your favour!**

**•••**

Lovino awoke to the other brunet's arms wrapped around him. The Spaniard was snoring softly and smiling slightly as if he was having a good dream. The Italian would love to stay in this position all day, at least until Antonio woke up—though he would never admit it—but unfortunately, they had class.

The hazel-eyed boy squirmed out of his boyfriend's grip, cursing school under his breath. Why couldn't there have been an off day today? Most of school was pretty fucking unnecessary. History? Why would you need to know that? It wasn't as if Lovino was going to grow up to be a historian or an anime writer. Speaking of anime, some of those were fucking weird too. The most random things would happen and women would have impossibly large boobs.

"Mmm...Lovi~" Antonio stirred from his spot on the bed. His green eyes sleepily opened, blinking as if it would help him stay awake. He sat up with a yawn. See, this certain Spaniard woke up like people in movies. The Italian watched from the side, waiting for something he knew would come. Lovino had long since given up protesting about it; he really didn't mind, but from the amount of cursing, you would've never been able to tell.

"Get the fuck up or we're gonna be late for school," the brunet with the non-messy hair snapped. Antonio looked over for a second before smiling up at Lovino, even though his boyfriend wasn't exactly being the nicest person in the world..or second...or third...or anywhere close.

"But Lovi, it's only six in the morning! We don't need to wake up till eight," the Spaniard slightly laughed at the Italian's mistake before opening his arms for Lovino to climb back in. The younger brunet was slightly blushing, embarrassed at how he had forgotten to check the time, but reluctantly—though it was totally not—climbed back into bed.

The two slowly drifted off to sleep. Though they didn't know it, the other bed was silently crying from not being used often enough.

•••

"God dammit, hurry up, Artie!" Alfred shouted. Since the two stayed up so late, it wasn't surprising that they had woken up slightly later than usual. The American was putting on his shoes and bomber jacket while Arthur was still getting into his socks and combing his hair—though from the way it messed up as it dried, and refused to be tamed once it did, his efforts would be fruitless. He was at the same time trying to turn off America, who kept squirming around while crying due to her teething.

"I'm trying!" Arthur snapped, as he managed to all tasks but putting on his shoes. The time was 8:51, so they only had five minutes to get to the school building, get the books out of their lockers, and get to class. It wouldn't seem like such a big deal, considering that the school building was about two minutes of running away, five of walking, but the lockers loved to jam on the worst days.

No one would've guessed that they were supposedly a couple from their display that morning.

"Come on!" Alfred impatiently said, pulling the Briton out the door, but allowing the other to grab his shoulder-bag backpack. The sandy-blond checked the watch on his wrist, 8:53. Only seven minutes before the late bell would ring.

•••

In the end, Arthur had managed to get to class on time, though there was only two minutes to spare. School passed fairly quickly, but something happened as last period ended between one of the couples.

"Francis, come on! We are a couple! You have the gall to flirt with that girl?" Jeanne was shouting at said French boy. As she said the words 'that girl', she pointed to a brunette who was looking terrified as if she thought the Frenchwoman was going to murder her right then and there. ((AN: The girl is not a Hetalia character.))

Arthur stopped to watch the fight; he was a sadistic bastard when the one in pain was Francis. Though after a while, he would get over it and attempt to comfort the French teen. They had a good frenemy relationship going on, though it was more enemy than friends.

"Mon amour, it's just my nature to flirt with beautiful women," Francis replied, but Arthur knew that was the wrong thing to say. He thought the long-haired blond was supposed to be an expert on love and women. Jeanne glared at her boyfriend before replying, "So you won't mind if I do this?"

The blonde girl pulled Arthur over, catching the Briton by surprise. She, right then, in front of Francis, kissed Arthur right on the lips before turning back to Francis, a smirk on her face and her hand on her hip. Arthur could see Alfred on the side, looking as he had just arrived and not heard the whole argument and Jeanne's words before she kissed him. The Brit could see the pained look on Alfred's face, and he reached out for the other boy slightly, but the American had already disappeared.

Francis looked absolutely flabbergasted that Jeanne would kiss _Arthur_ of all people. She didn't particularly like him even as a friend—Arthur had teased her in kindergarten through second grade, pulling her hair like the childish little boy he was and refusing to play with her at recess, but that was serious to little kids their age—so it was astonishing that she had chosen _him_ out of all people to make Francis jealous.

Well, maybe it wasn't considering the not so goos relationship between the English teen and the French teen.

But before Francis could say a word, Jeanne pulled Arthur along with her as she left the scene of the fight. Francis looked absolutely devastated—you could tell he was love with the girl by the expression he was wearing—but Jeanne didn't bother looking back at her ex-boyfriend.

All Arthur wanted to do was go back to the dorms and comfort Alfred, telling the American that he, in no way, had wanted, initiated, or enjoyed the kiss Jeanne gave him. He couldn't do that though, as Jeanne was pulling him towards her dorm, which was on the opposite side of the building, on another floor of the dorm building. The French girl had a pretty tight grip on his wrist; she would definitely notice if he tried to slip away or somehow managed to.

Finally, they reached hers and Francis's dorm—contrary to what Arthur would've thought, the room was clean, and there was no sign of anything perverted littered on the ground. Jeanne collapsed onto the bed, and Arthur locked the door. The girl looked as heartbroken as Francis had, if not more. He knew she wouldn't want the French boy in after what he had done.

"I'm sorry," Jeanne told the Briton. She was starting to tear up despite how tough she seemed on the outside. The blonde was just like Elizaveta in that respect, how she could probably beat up a whole army of men without batting an eyelash, but would sob over something like heartbreak.

"It's fine," Arthur replied, waving the apology that he didn't need off.

The girl was crying by now. "_Why would Francis do this to me?_" Jeanne was weeping in French, "_Why would he be going after other girls? I thought he was in love with me!_" Unfortunately, Arthur had been forced to take French in elementary school—it was the worst experience of his life, though he couldn't seem to forget the language—so he could understand every word the girls was saying as the sobbed into her pillow.

"Jeanne," Arthur said, interrupting her tear-filled whining about Francis. "He loves you. Did you not see his expression as you left?" The girl shook her head, sniffling as her tears cleared up a slightly. The Briton continued, "Francis" he would've liked to call him a frog as he usually did, but _that_ wouldn't make her feel better,"looked absolutely distraught when you left. If you had looked back you would've seen it."

Jeanne looked up at Arthur, a little glimmer of hope, but mainly sadness in her eyes, "Why would he chase after other girls if he loves me then?" The sandy blond shrugged, "Hell if I know. ((omg, improper grammar coming from Arthur :O)) The bloody frog is an idiot. Isn't he supposed to be an expert on love?"

The girl smiled slightly as Arthur continued, "And you never know what you have until you lose it. _Hopefully_," the Briton put emphasis on the word 'hopefully', "the git learned his lesson." Jeanne hugged the older boy tightly, "Merci! I'm sorry for dragging you into this though."

Arthur nodded before saying, "I'm going to need your help though." He sighed, "I need you to tell Alfred that the kiss was just to make the frog jealous and not real." The French girl looked confused, "Wait, why would I need to tell...?" Then it hit her. "Mon dieu! I'm so sorry! I really didn't know you two were dating. Please forgive me!"

"It's fine," Arthur looked away, slightly blushing from the fact she had found out, "Elizaveta is the only one who knows," he sighed, "and that was because she apparently doesn't know how to knock." He rolled his eyes as he said the last comment, "Just don't tell anyone yet. Especially not _Francis_," he slightly fidgeted where he was sitting, "I really don't think we're ready to tell everyone we're a couple yet."

Jeanne laughed, sniffling as she got over her tears, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, not even Francis." She used the back of her hand to wipe the tears out of her eyes.

A knock resounded through the room, making both the French and British teen turn their heads towards the door. In came the blond French boy whose room this belonged to along with Jeanne after the lock clicked, signalling that someone had unlocked it.

Francis walked to the bed and pulled Arthur up by his shirt collar. "You better not have done anything to Jeanne," Francis growled at the Briton. It was a change from the sultry tone he always used on women to woo them, or the annoyed one he used just for the other blond boy.

Arthur wore a bored expression as he replied, "Why would I ever do that?" Francis glared at the Englishman until he heard the words the blond said next, "She's clearly still in love with you, although I don't see how that's even possible." Arthur pushed Francis away from him, grabbing Jeanne's hand.

"I still need your help," he said, and Jeanne nodded, following him towards his and Alfred's dorm. Francis was left confused and annoyed. Why did Jeanne need to help _him_? What would he even need help with?

•••

Alfred was left at home, eating ice cream and playing video games. It was to him as soap operas and ice cream were to a heart broken girl after she caught her boyfriend cheat.

Why as he acting like the girl, dammit? That was Arthur's job. The American got up, ready to find Arthur and confront him about Jeanne and him kissing. Didn't Jeanne have a boyfriend? Was she cheating too?

Suddenly, a knock on the door seemed to echo through the room. Well, it didn't really echo, per se, Alfred just kind of felt like it did.

•••

**Another sucky chapter. Like it, hate it, love it—highly doubt it—, despise it so much you wish to bleach your eyes? Tell me in the reviews!**

**And this is probably going to be maybe two, maybe three more chapters at most.**

**~Sapphire**


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